Page 137 of Sweet Hate
I’ve really gone and fucked it now. Again.
Why the hell couldn’t I stick to the goddamn plan?
Walking over, she rests her hand on my cheek and strokes the stubble there.
“Thank you for dinner, Axel. Thank you for everything. Tonight’s been pretty perfect.” Her hand drops from my cheek to my chest, right above my rapidly breaking heart.
“But we need to be careful. This is supposed to be temporary. Neither of us can give any more. Those were your words too. If we blur the lines too much, I’m not sure we’ll come out the other side without one of us getting hurt.” She swipes at a tear and drops her eyes to her phone.
“I’m going to head home now.”
“No, wait. I’ll drive you home.” I scramble to claw back a few stolen minutes with her, even if it’s in the truck instead of cuddled up on my sofa.
“It’s fine. I have an Uber waiting outside.”
She plants a soft, chaste kiss on my lips, and then she’s gone.
All I’m left with is the sparkly pink blanket that still smells like her.
46
AXEL
Apparently, misery loves company. I wake up this morning bleary eyed with my chest scratched to all hell after sinking one too many beers last night.
Groaning, I shove the stupid sequin blanket onto the floor. What does she like about that thing? It’s sostabby.
New goddamn low, Verona. Not only did you open your big mouth too soon, but you also spooned the motherfucking blanket so you could smell her all night like a damn simp.
I would love nothing more than to nurse my hangover with a greasy breakfast, but I don’t deserve that. My bullshit is self-inflicted and while I might want to wallow in the epic shitstorm of how my night ended, I’m not going to allow myself to. I promised to finish the bakery, and I always do what needs to be done.
Rolling out of bed, I pick up the she-devil blanket from where I tossed it, allowing my sorry ass one last sniff of the sweet scent that still lingers on it. Christ, I really am pathetic. If my crew saw me now, they would be convinced I’d had a lobotomy or some shit.
After taking a practically arctic shower to make sureWoody takes a hike, I head down to the bakery, and I can already hear movement inside. Well shit, I was hoping to have a bit of breathing room before Lucas arrived this morning.
A piercing whistle sounds as I walk in, practically bursting my eardrums.
“Damn, Axeman, you look like shit. What the hell happened to you last night and where was my invite?”
The shit eating grin on his face is too much while I’m battling to keep down a wave of nausea. He is way too fucking chirpy. Forget God of Thunder—he’s the God of Sunshine.
“Nothing happened. Did the furniture I ordered arrive this week?”
“Yep, all present and accounted for out front. So is the wallpaper and paint.”
I head in and crouch to inspect the boxes.
“So boss, if nothing happened last night, why is your hair sparkling like you spent the night motorboating a drag queen?”
Wait, what now?
“The fuck, dude?”
He tugs something out of my hair, and sure enough, a little pink sequin is sitting on the palm of his hand. Well, that blanket really is the gift that just keeps on giving.
He pulls out no less than four more while full on belly laughing now.
“Knock it off, Lucas.”
