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“Oh, but I insist. I had them make an extra special batch just for you.”
He’d definitely done something shady and vile to whatever was in the red boxes.
Fucking heathen.
“Julie’s making pancakes,” I informed him. “With, um, blueberries. So, I’m just gonna wait for th-those.”
There should have been a law against smelling so abhorrently good that it messed with people’s abilities to navigate their way through fully coherent sentences.
Adrien’s arms tightened around me, and I refused—absolutelyrefused—to acknowledge the hardening ridge pressing to my lower back. I wasnotturned on by any of this. I didnotwant to turn around and ravish him against the fridge. I didnotwant him to drag me up the stairs, pin me to the wall, and punish me for what I’d pulled last night.
I was fine.
This wasfine.
Anthony kindly poured his son a fresh, steaming cup of coffee before returning to his… sudoku? Crossword? Last will and testament?
I was losing brain cells at an alarmingly rapid rate.
“Oh, don’t worry about the pancakes,” Julie chirped, barely able to contain her excitement as she watched us, entirely unaware of how I was currently plotting her beloved son’s gruesome demise. “Since Addy went through all that trouble to go to the bakery first thing and special-order your favorites…”
She was melting.
Her dreams for her son were coming true, and she was positivelymeltingwith happiness.
Adrien brushed the hair away from my ear and neck. My breath didnothitch when his fingers brushed against my skin. I didnotshiver.
“Just a bite,” he murmured into my ear evilly. “Since I went through all that trouble.”
“Did you getusanything while you were there?” Alice asked him, glaring at a sneakily approaching Maxwell. The bird had balls, I’d give him that. He wasn’t even remotely deterred by the jab-ready way she was holding that knife.
Or maybe I just had murder on my mind.
Adrien reached for the smaller box and placed it in front of me, then nudged his chin at the bigger one. “That one’s yours.”
Alice threw the lid open, visibly excited as she snatched a chocolate croissant out of the box and bit into it, her shoulders jiggling with happiness. “Yes! Thank you!”
Maxwell took this opportunity to nab a piece of mango out of her bowl and hurriedly hopped back to Anthony for protection in case Alice’s distraction was short-lived. It wasn’t.
“And for you,my love,” Adrien purred hatefully, opening the smaller box. A cinnamon roll, freshly baked to golden perfection. “Just how you like it.”
It looked like a cinnamon roll, it smelledlike a cinnamon roll, my mouth drooled like it was in the presence of a cinnamon roll… but something about it was off.
“Um, why is the icing pink?” I dared to ask, knowing full well I wouldn’t like the answer.
“I’m so glad you asked.”Fuck me.“Since I know how much you love raisins, I had them blend some into the icing for you.”
Ew… ew, what?
Alice made a face as Adrien peeled back the outer layer of the bun to reveal… raisins.
So. Many. Raisins.
Double, maybe even triple, the amount of raisins you’d expect.
Yeah.
Fuck no.
