Page 100 of I Knead You Tonight

Which is where we’re at now, standing in line for pieandcake.

The booths are set up right next to each other.

I’m waiting for the cake with the stroller and Riker, and she’s waiting for the pie, practically salivating over it.

“I’m telling you—the cake is going to be a thousand times more worth the ticket. You can buy a damn pumpkin pie at the grocery store any time you want. You can’t get this cake all year long.”

“But I want pie too, dammit,” she whines, checking the line ahead of her for the millionth time.

“Wasn’t it you telling me we can’t always get what we want?”

“This is an entirely different situation. I can get exactly what I want. I have enough vouchers.”

“You meanwehave enough. We’re supposed to be splitting those.”

“I told you we should have bought more,” she says.

“I didn’t realize you were going to use them all for yourself for some basic-ass pie.”

The people around us gape at me, the ones in the pie line shooting daggers.

“You’re all fools,” I mutter to them.

Drew shakes her head, trying to be angry, but I see her lips tic.

“Just wait. You’re going to try this pie and it’s going to change your life.”

“You better shut your piehole,” I warn.

“Nobody says that anymore unless they’re like fifty.”

“Riker, your mom is about to walk home, and that’s going to suck for her, because it’s a few miles and she has short legs.”

“Riker, your mother is about to murder your best friend and stuff his body where nobody can find him.”

“You just threatened me. I have witnesses!”

Everyone in line turns the other way, already pissed at me for hating on the pie.

“Traitors!” I yell.

Drew and I step up to the booths at the same time, order our respective desserts, and then meet off to the side.

We take a bite at the same time.

“Oh my god,” she moans. “It’ssogood.”

For the first time in my life, I’m jealous of food.

Iwant to be the only one to make her moan.

“Here, try it.”

“Not in a million years,” I sneer. I shovel another bite of heavenly pumpkin cake into my mouth. “Oh my god,” I mimic. “It’ssogood.”

“I bet it tastes like dirt.”

“I bet it tastes better than your pussy.”

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