“But no sixty-nine, I’m guessing.” The teasing words escape my mouth before my brain can even catch up to the fact that I’m flirting with her. With Kelly. My best friend, the woman I’ve wanted since high school but never been able to have.
I fully expect her to smack me, or roll her eyes, or get up and walk away, but she doesn’t. She blushes.
And the sight of her cheeks going pink for me? Well, that just makes me feel all kinds of crazy things I probably shouldn’t be feeling for a woman who clearly thinks of me as nothing more than a friend.
“Yeah, no. None of that.” Her voice wavers.
She’s so close, I could touch her easily. A hand resting on her bare leg, an innocent foot massage, a hug goodnight. All within perfectly acceptable boundaries of friendship, and all things I’ve done in the past without a second thought, even with my unrequited attraction to her.
So, why now does it feel so scandalous, yet so fucking alluring, to think about doing those things to her?
“Right. Okay, so then I guess, tomorrow.” The words come out hoarse and halting, and I clear my throat. “Tomorrow we’ll go out.”
“On a practice date.”
“Yeah. A practice…date.”
Fucking hell, I’m so screwed.
Chapter seven
Kelly
Let me let you in on a secret. Attempting to sleep is impossible after your best friend, whom you’ve recently discovered you’re very attracted to, makes a joking comment about sixty-nine. I lost count of how many times I flipped over, flipped my pillow over, or untangled my sheets from all the damn flipping over.
It’s a good thing Jensen’s room is at the end of the hall, and there’s a bathroom between us, because there was no way I was getting any rest without taking care of things. God bless quiet sex toys. But the real danger came the moment I, well, came, and my mouth started to say his name. Thankfully, I grabbed the pillow beside me to smother my face in time. A quiet vibe he might not hear, but me calling out his name in the throes of release…yeah, I don’t feel like risking that.
Luckily, he was still asleep when I left for work today. I didn’t even hear Oliver snuffle at his bedroom door to be let out, so like a total coward, I crept out silently and escaped to the sanctity of the bakery. Yes, I realize he could easily find me here, but I don’t think he will.
God, I hope he doesn’t. If there was ever a terrible day for him to meet Mila, it’s the day after whatever last night was. I could have sworn Jensen was going to do something, say something, after his ridiculous sixty-nine comment, but he didn’t. Not really. Still, there was something in the air between us that I had never noticed before. But just in case I was being a sentimental, emotional weirdo, I pretended to be oblivious to it and to the energy crackling between us, and made my excuses to head to bed shortly after. I heard him get up, let Ollie out, and then go to bed himself. When his footsteps hesitated outside my bedroom door, I won’t lie. I held my breath until he carried on down the hall.
At the bakery, I’m a machine, cranking out batch after batch of cookies. Pouring all of my restless, insecure energy into baking.
“Uh, Kelly?” Sebastian, our head barista and my frequent early morning co-worker, sticks his head in the kitchen door. “Are we running a sale on cookies this morning?”
I dart my gaze up at him, huffing out some air to get the piece of hair that’s fallen over my eyes out of the way. “No, why?”
He fidgets in the doorway, glancing between the racks of cooling cookies in front of me and the front counter.
“Spit it out, Bast,” I say sharply.
“It’s just that you’ve filled all the trays out front and taken over three scone trays. Customers are wondering if there will be anythingotherthan cookies today.”
My head falls forward. “Shit. I forgot to put the muffins in the oven. I’m so sorry, Sebastian. Yeah, let’s run a two-for-one on cookies, and I’ll put this dough in the fridge and get straight to work on muffins.” I quickly start to scrape the dough into a container, mentally berating myself for being so distracted. Somehow, I didn’t clue in to the fact that with Mila taking a rare morning off, I was responsible for more than just the cookies. Some manager I’m turning out to be if all it takes is one awkward sort of flirt and I’m reduced to a fumbling disaster.
Mila’s arrival at the bakery was just late enough that I managed to catch up on other baking so our customers had their usual variety. But I should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.
“Care to explain why we’re suddenly running a two-for-one sale on cookies? Pretty sure I don’t remember setting that up when we mapped out promotions for the quarter.” Mila arches her brow at me, but judging by the smile she’s trying to hide, she isn’ttooupset.
“Sorry. I got a little carried away with cookie batches, and I figured a flash sale was a good way to clear out the extras. I hope that’s alright?”
I’m dismissed with a wave of her hand. “Of course it is, babe, I trust you. That’s why you’re in charge. I’m just giving you a hard time.”
I give her a wan smile in return.
“I do have one question.”
“Which is?” I ask cautiously.
