“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.”
I was going through the motions of rolling my eyes but stopped. 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 trash can. “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, grabbing 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 would be planned within the next month.
**
I slept for shit that night. Images of Reese’s orgasmic face kept entering my dreams that I tried to be of anything but him. It was a useless act. No matter what thought entered my mind, whether it was searching my brain for what exactly was in a tart to the anniversary cake consultation I had Tuesday morning; his beautiful face would pop in uninvited. Tossing in my bed and now completely drenched in sweat, I sit up and glance at my alarm clock. 3:15a.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 worked so hard for. No. Fuck this. Hoping 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 knew exactly what I was going to make. It’s what I always made when I couldn’t sleep or needed 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 opened my tattered recipe book and thumbed through it until I stopped on the familiar handwriting. It was 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 thought of my grandmother when I made these. She passed away ten years ago and it made me sad to think that she would 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.