Page 14 of Just a Little Prick

I wanted to do it again.

My hands traveled down my body, slowly. Maybe I had time…

My stomach rolled.

Nope. My body had more pressing urges, like getting rid of the remaining alcohol in my stomach.

When I was done throwing up, I got into my normal morning routine—shower, dress, hair up, head to the kitchen for breakfast.

That was when I found it. Sitting on the little pass-through window in my kitchen was a page torn from my shopping list pad, the blank side up. From the hallway, I could see a drawing on it.

I approached, biting my lower lip. The wordsTalk later? -Bwere scrawled at the top in sloppy, boyish handwriting. Underneath was a drawing, clearly quickly sketched out.

A butterfly fluttered at an angle as if flying upward. A trail of stars followed it. Similar stars dotted its wings. It was in black and white, confined by the ballpoint pen attached to the notepad, but I could imagine it in color—deep blue, shimmering silver.

We’d definitely be talking later.

* * * * *

I stood alone at the counter, mixing up a batch of lemon-flavored batter. My headphones were in, but quieter today. I wasn’t angry, wasn’t trying to block the world out. Besides, I was hoping Bradley might drop in.

He did, much earlier than the day before. He’d clearly showered and changed.

He looked good.

I felt my cheeks flush. Maybe something in the back needed my attention. I looked at the timers on the magnet strip next to me—still fifteen minutes before the first batch of cupcakes was due. I wouldn’t make icing until cupcakes started to come out of the oven, because they’d need to cool.

No, I told myself, surprised by how stern my own inner voice sounded. There’s no reason to panic and run off.

I took a deep breath, paused my music, and turned toward him. “Morning. What can I get you?”

“Hey.” He smiled, leaning casually on the counter. His eyes swept over my body. Heat rushed through me again.

How much trouble would I be in if I asked him to fuck me on the counter?

A lot. I’d definitely lose my job.

But god, he was gorgeous. Strong arms, unkempt blond hair, just the right amount of scruff. Casually dressed. Tattooed. And he had a lazy smile that made me want to beg him for another round. What the hell was I supposed to do but want him?

The door to the back burst open and Kenzie emerged, carrying a tray of fresh muffins. She paused for a moment, then hurried to put the tray of muffins in the case.

“I got it from here, Lora,” she said, her cheerfulness forced.

“Oh, I—I can handle it.”

“No, the cupcakes are almost done, right? Don’t want to burn them.”

Right. She didn’t want me talking to him. I looked to Bradley again and smiled weakly, then turned to go check the cupcakes in the oven. But I could hear them talking, as much as Kenzie seemed to be trying to keep her voice down.

“What thefuck, Bradley?”

“Jesus, Kenzie, calm down. No reason to freak out.”

“You don’t need to try and hook up with every single girl you meet!”

“Do we have to do this right now? I’d just like a cup of coffee and a muffin, okay?”

“Where did you go? Where did you take her?”

---