The Sweet Addiction Series Collection: Sweet Addiction, Sweet Possession & Sweet Obsession (9 page)

Joey shakes his head at me. “Do you have to be so accommodating all the time? We do enough special requests as it is.”

I place my notepad on the counter and put my hand on my hip. “Hey, special requests are what make Dylan’s Sweet Tooth different from all the other bakeries around here. You can’t just walk into Crumbs Galore on Main Street and ask for something they don’t make. I like being approachable and accommodating. It gives me an edge.” He rolls his eyes but smiles at me, knowing I’m one hundred percent right. Word of mouth about how customers can pretty much request anything in my shop has gotten me a ton of business over the past three years. I shrug and continue, “Now, would you like to talk about how awesome we are compared to our competition, or would you like to talk about how Reese
isn’t
married?”

His eyes widen and he stumbles. “Isn’t? As in he’s single? As in you can continue to fuck him?”

My eyes rake through the display case and I straighten up. “Hmmm, hold on. We need more black bottoms.” I move toward the doorway that leads back to the kitchen when Joey grabs me by the shoulders.

“Fuck the fucking black bottoms. You owe me at least an hour of uninterrupted gossip.” His face is red and his eyes are bugging out at me.

“And I’ll tell you every juicy detail, after I grab a tray of black bottoms.” He lets out a string of curse words and allows me to step in to the back.

I honor what I promised and spare no detail with Joey as I place the cupcakes into the display case. He stands back, completely enthralled by my rundown of my lunchtime office visit. I tell him about how I caught Juls being nailed by Ian on his desk, and about how she had mistaken Reese for Trent. I mention how Reese thought my angry tirade was sexy, and how I was going to yell at him again, but opted for a blow job instead to properly apologize for my face slap. And I wrap up with his words to me when he apologized for his freak out behavior at the wedding.

“He said he’s not used to sex getting to him like that? What the hell does that even mean?” Joey asks as he wipes down the glass of the display case.

I shrug and nibble on a muffin. “I don’t know. I was hoping you had some words of wisdom. It’s not like I’m an expert on this shit or anything.”

He silently thinks for a minute, his hand holding his rag still on the glass. “Maybe he means that
you
got to him. Like he was only going into it as just being what it was, slutty wedding sex, a one-time hook up, a sexy romp with a bridesmaid—”

“I wasn’t a bridesmaid,” I interject and his hand comes up to silence me.

“You know what I mean. He expected it to be a one and done deal, but what he wasn’t expecting was
you
. Oh, my God, you’re a game changer. He wants more than just slutty wedding sex.”

Going through the motions of rolling my eyes, I stop.
Is that what Reese meant? Did I affect him to the point of freak out? Is that even a good thing? No. There’s no way.
I shake my head.

“I think you and Juls are still drunk from the wedding. That guy is way too hot for me. Yes, I managed to somehow seduce him after he had
several
drinks I’m sure, but in normal daily life where alcohol isn’t free flowing and I’m usually covered in pastry flour and icing, he is way the hell out of my league.” I finish off my muffin and toss the wrapper in the trashcan. “Besides, he told me he hasn’t had a girlfriend since college, which I’m sure is by choice. Look at him.”

Joey walks around the counter, grabs my hand, and kisses the back of it. “Yeah, he does have that whole unattainable bachelor vibe going on. And I’m sure he gets a lot of ass, but right now, he wants
your
ass.” He arches his brow playfully. “For the record, I happen to like you covered in pastry flour. And you are
just
as hot as he is.”

I smile sweetly at him as he drops my hand and gets back to cleaning. My two closest friends are crazy, rightly out of their minds, and between the two of them, I’m sure my wedding to Reese will be planned within the next month.

I sleep for shit that night. Images of Reese’s orgasmic face keep entering my thoughts, while I try to focus on anything but him. It’s a useless act. No matter what thoughts enter my mind, whether it’s searching my brain for what exactly is in a tart, or the anniversary cake consultation I have Tuesday morning, his beautiful face pops in uninvited. Tossing in my bed and now completely drenched in sweat, I sit up and glance at my alarm clock. Three fifteen a.m.
Jesus, I have to be up in less than two hours for my run and haven’t slept a wink.
I slam back on my pillow.
This can’t happen. I cannot let some hook up affect me like this. I’m never going to get a good night’s sleep. You can forget about my morning runs with Joey and functioning properly in the shop. I’ll lose my business and everything I’ve worked so hard for.
No. Fuck this
. Hopping out of bed, I throw myself into a freezing cold shower and jolt myself even more awake. Sleep is for the weak. There’s no way I’m getting any tonight, so I might as well bake. After dressing, I grab my phone and descend the stairs two at a time.

I know exactly what I’m going to make. It’s what I always make when I can’t sleep or need a distraction. My mocha cupcakes with espresso butter cream frosting. The perfect combination of caffeine and chocolate, both of which I could consume in massive quantities right now. I open my tattered recipe book and thumb through it until I stop on the familiar handwriting. It’s a recipe of my grandmother’s that she used to make when I was a little girl, stumbling clumsily around her kitchen as she baked all day long. She made them weekly and always let me help her, my big brown eyes watching her with complete awe as she cracked her eggs with one hand and never needed a measuring spoon because “A real cook will always trust her taste buds over anything else.” My mother hated when she would make this recipe with me because I would consume them in mass quantities and be on an insane sugar and caffeine high for hours. My crash would be swift and hard, usually resulting in me passing out in the middle of the living room floor. I always think of my grandmother when I make these. She passed away ten years ago and it makes me sad to think she will never get to see her influence on me now. After pulling together all of my ingredients and starting the coffee maker, I create a group text message with Juls and Joey.

Me: Just so you are both aware, its 3:30a.m. and I am making my mocha cupcakes. Yes, you read that correctly and yes, it’s because I haven’t slept at all. Don’t bother asking me to go for a run, Joey. That ship has sailed.

Once the coffee is brewed, I mix in the espresso powder and set it aside to cool while I whip up the remaining ingredients. The smell alone perks me up a bit and I’m not feeling like a completely pathetic, sleep-deprived loser anymore. This is what I know. Baking. I’m good at it and I can practically do it in my sleep. Which I guess right now is ironic considering my current zombie-like state. My mind begins to drift as I whip the batter, watching the electric beaters mix the eggs and sugars.
I wonder if Reese likes mocha cupcakes?
Or maybe he’s a cookie guy. Shit.
I turn the mixer off and put my bowl onto the counter as I rub my eyes.
Focus, Dylan. You could lose a fucking finger.
I combine the egg mixture with my batter and whip it quickly before dividing the batter evenly into my cupcake liners. After I shove the trays into the oven, I get to work on the icing.

The icing is made of espresso powder, vanilla, butter, and powdered sugar. It’s ridiculously sweet, and one of my favorites. I could live off this stuff if I had to. Because really, is there anything better than icing?
Sex with Reese, his lips, his hands touching me, his sounds...

“UGH,” I yell, slamming my hands down onto the cool counter. This is insane. What the fuck is wrong with me? I’ve never been this affected by a guy before. I was with Justin for two years and could go days without talking to or seeing him and not even miss the asshole. Which I guess in hindsight should have been a dead giveaway. I mean, shouldn’t you want to see your significant other nonstop? But I didn’t, and that was at least a relationship. This, whatever it is that Reese and I are doing, or were doing and I may be completely crazy to assume we will continue doing it. This is not serious. And I need to get my shit together and stop acting like it is. I pull the cupcakes out of the oven and lay them on the counter to cool while I test the icing.

“Mmmm. Perfect.” I’m half tempted to say fuck the cupcakes and grab a spoon and retreat back upstairs with my bowl. But I yawn instead. And yawn again. Glancing at my phone, the blurred numbers read four twenty-seven a.m. as my eyelids refuse to stay open. With a third yawn, I pull up a stool and prop my head on my fist as I sit and wait for the cupcakes to cool. Then I can ice them and get ready for my day. Yup. That’s exactly what I’m going to do. I don’t need sleep. Because with sleep came dreams of Reese, and I don’t need that. My eyelids fall shut and my breathing steadies. Nope, definitely don’t need sleep. Or Reese.

“Cupcake, I think you need to wake up now.”

My eyes slowly flutter open and the bright sunlight beaming through my window makes me close them tight again. “Shit.” I roll over and cover my head with my pillow, hearing Joey’s soft giggle.

“Seriously, Dylan, you’re going to sleep the day away if you don’t get up.”

Sleep the day away?
I push back onto my shins to look at the clock.

“It’s three thirty? In the afternoon? Fuck.” I shoot out of bed and run into the bathroom. “Joey, why the hell did you let me sleep this late? And how did I even get up here?” He follows me into the bathroom and leans against the door as I brush my teeth and unruly hair.

“First of all, I came in this morning to find you passed out face down on the workbench. So, being the nice guy that I am, I carried you up here and put you to bed.”

I splash my face with cold water and dry it with a towel, turning to smile at him. “Oh, God. I bet I was a sight.” He shrugs and steps aside as I walk into the bedroom and begin getting dressed.

“And secondly, I’ve been trying to wake you for the past four hours.”

I roll my eyes at his statement. Of course, he’s been trying to wake me up and I’ve slept through it. What the hell don’t I sleep through besides my alarm? I slip on my jeans and a black tank top before I walk out from behind the partition. “Four hours? Jesus. Oh, shit.” My stomach drops. “I missed my consultation.”

He smiles sweetly at me and I want to punch him.
What is he, mental? That’s money lost. “
Relax, I took care of it. Mrs. Frey was more than happy to meet with me since you were suffering from a stomach bug. You’re welcome.”

“I love you. You know that, right?”

He wraps me up into a big hug and kisses the top of my head. “You better. Come on, I have something to show you.”

I follow him down the stairs and into the bakery. Everything is in perfect order, which I knew it would be. Joey is more than capable of handling shit while I sleep my life away. “God, I’m starving. I feel like I haven’t eaten in days. Ooohhh, and you iced the mocha cupcakes.” I pull a blueberry muffin out from the almost bare display case and begin nibbling on it while spacing out the remaining treats. Joey emerges from the back carrying a familiar looking white box.
Oh, God.

“Of course I iced them. And they have been selling like crazy too, along with everything else today. We’ve been slammed.” He places the box on the counter in front of me and I swallow loudly. “But who gives a shit about cupcakes or anything edible right now. You have no idea how hard it has been to not open this.” He pushes it closer to me. “Now get to it.”