Page 50 of Pushing Daisy
Daisy readjusts her posture, trying to relieve some of the growing pressure in her core, but every movement creates friction, and her body wants to chase it. She needs to get out of here, away from Sloan before she pounces on her.
“I’m afraid I might be far too cynical for that. With everything I see in my work with businesses trying to do the bare minimum, I have difficulty trusting they would want to do any good.”
“Perhaps you need to be shown how good it can be,” Daisy responds suggestively. She didn’t mean for it to come out as such, but she’s also not sorry. Especially not as she watches Sloan’s expression shift as the implied intent behind her words lands.
Sloan’s eyebrows rocket upward as she inhales ever so slightly with surprise. Daisy’s eyes soften as she gazes at Sloan, and she’s overcome with the urge to kiss those beautiful apples on her cheeks.
“Perhaps,” Sloan responds, letting the innuendo hang between them.
Daisy smirks, enjoying her effect on the witch in front of her. “Anyway, if we can finish these tasks by the end of the week, we will be in a good spot. I have a few businesses I have connections to, thanks to working at the Acorn, so I’m going to reach out to them, as well as some friends who would run the painting and so on.”
Sloan swallows, regaining composure. “Sounds great. Should we reconvene on Saturday for another update?”
“That sounds good.”
“Dinner?”
“Yes, that will work,” she says, trying not to show how excited she is for more time with Sloan.
“Great. I’m going to go and get a little snack. Do you want anything?” Sloan asks.
“A coffee would be lovely. Black, please.”
“One coffee coming right up,” Sloan replies before walking toward the coffee booth in the corner.
Daisy watches her walk away. Sloan’s hips sway effortlessly and seem to conduct their own music along the way, building tension in Daisy’s core again as they rise and fall to an inaudible rhythm.
Get a grip! You’re barely friends.
As painful as it is, Daisy forces herself to look away. She picks up her phone, checking for missed messages and absentmindedly scrolling through various apps, trying to keep her mind occupied. Unfortunately for her, her magic keeps tugging on this invisible thread connecting her to Sloan, telling her to look. Watch. Dream.
When she feels Sloan’s presence again, a beautifully large and perfectly iced cupcake slides in front of her with her coffee. The cupcake is a vanilla rainbow sprinkle with a healthy swirl of strawberry icing and a cherry at its very apex. Daisy’s eyes, of their own volition, swell with tears. She swallows while blinking rapidly and tilting her head back, trying to hold them back.
“Thank… Thank you,” she squeaks.
Sloan sits opposite her, and their knees bump. The contact sends a spark up her leg to her core and a second one down to her toes, which involuntarily curl. Sloan leans forward to get a closer look. “Are you crying? Because of a cupcake?” she asks in disbelief.
Daisy picks up a napkin and wipes the stray tear at the corner of her eye. “It’s so beautiful.”
A joyous laugh escapes Sloan, and Daisy swears she has never heard a sound as sweet. It’s honey to her ears. Smooth yet sticky, clinging to her in all the right places, filling her soul in ways she never thought possible.
“I used to get this as a child when I came here with my mother. I can only remember a handful of times we came, but every time I was allowed to choose a special treat, and every time it was this exact cupcake.”
The memory doesn’t sting like it usually does when she thinks of her mother. Moving about the world has been challenging these past few weeks, knowing her parents will never remember who she is or that she even exists. But Sloan’s choice of the exact cupcake from her childhood is…comforting. It’s as if Sloan brought her a slice of home she never knew she missed.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for. And how could you? I haven’t talked about my family much, especially beyond what they are known for.”
“I chose it because it made me think of you,” Sloan says softly, eyes cast downward as if she is embarrassed.
Daisy wipes away a final tear at the corner of her eye. “It made you think of me?”
“Yes. It’s bright and fun and unexpected. It looks like you but in cupcake form.”
A laugh bubbles up and out of Daisy, surprising her and Sloan, causing the mood at the table to shift away from the momentary melancholy into lighter air. She’s never thought of herself as bright and fun. Unexpected, yes, but not fun. If anything, she thinks of herself as a dark cloud hovering over everything she touches.
It’s such a small thing that a cupcake made Sloan think of her, but it feels important. That it should matter to Daisy that Sloan is thinking of her when coming across random baked goods. Especially her favorite, cupcakes, and that she chose one with such a nostalgic connection. Daisy feels her heart opening up ever so slightly at this seemingly inconsequential gesture, making room for Sloan.
