Sweet Addiction(21)
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 wasn’t feeling like a complete pathetic sleep deprived loser anymore. This is what I knew. Baking. I was good at it and I could practically do it in my sleep. Which I guess right now was 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 like’s 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 of 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 that 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 4:27a.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 could ice them and get ready for my day. Yup. That’s exactly what I’m going to do. I didn’t need sleep. Because with sleep came dreams of Reese and I didn’t need that. My eyelids fall shut and my breathing steadies. Nope, definitely don’t need sleep. Or Reese.
Five
“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 3:30? 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 have 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 slept 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.