Page 38 of Dearly Unbeloved
She pulls it toward herself and sniffs, surprise flashingin her eyes, before turning to look at me. “There’s brown sugar ice cream in the freezer. Put a spoonful of that in your coffee. Trust me.”
Who the hell puts ice cream in coffee? I suppose it’s just frozen creamer, but still. I’m curious enough to try it, so I grab the ice cream and spoon a dollop on top of my coffee, using my straw to break it up and mix it in as much as possible.
Sierra watches me take a sip, and I can’t even pretend it’s not good. I really have to stop putting myself through plain coffee.
“It’s alright,” I say with a shrug, and Sierra snorts, seeing right through me.
“You bought me coffee.”
“Clearly. There’s a pistachio croissant in the box for you, too,” I say, and Sierra narrows her eyes at me.
“Dinnerandbreakfast? Careful, Cannon, people might start to think you like me.”
“It was supposed to be breakfast, but considering it’s”—I make a show of checking the time on my phone—“11:48, I think lunch would be more fitting. And I don’t like you. Quite the opposite.”
“Sundays are for sleeping in.” Sierra bites into the croissant and moans. I look away, pretending the sound doesn’t go right to my head. “So, what’s the occasion?”
I pick at the sticky label on my coffee cup as I answer. “We have shit to talk about today, and you’re more reasonable when you’re sugared and caffeinated.”
“I’m freshly fucked, and I just slept for eleven hours. I’m in a great mood.” She stretches out like a cat in the sun. “But the sugar and caffeine are nice. Have you just been sitting around all morning waiting for me to wake up so we could talk?”
“No.”Yes.“I went for a run.”And couldn’t focus, so I came home after a half mile.“Then I finished my book and picked up the coffee and pastries.”I only had one chapter left, and I DoorDashed them.
Sierra attempts to hide a smile behind her coffee cup. “I’m sure. Okay, I’m listening. Talk.”
I take a long drag of the beautiful, sugary coffee before speaking. “Last night was a mistake.”
“Oh, wow. Who could’ve seen this coming? Not me. I’m so surprised,” Sierra replies, sarcasm dripping from her tongue.
“Can’t you take?—”
“Can’t you take anything seriously, Sierra?” she interrupts, trying to imitate me in a singsong voice that sounds nothing like me. “Or is itwifenow?”
I scowl because, actually, yes, that’s exactly what I was going to say. Minus the wife part.
“Thisisserious. I don’t think we should do this.” Even to my own ears, I sound exhausted. Understandably so, considering I was awake all night, my mind whirring.
Sierra must hear it, because the smirk slides off her face in favor of a pinched expression. “Okay, I’ll hear you out. Did you not enjoy it? Because I sure as hell did. And I bet you’d have enjoyed it more if you’d have let me touch you.”
“I enjoyed it plenty. That’s not the problem.”
“So what’s the—oh.” Sierra crosses her arms. “You don’t like that you enjoyed it. Is that it?”
I say nothing, and she rolls her eyes, laughing without a lick of humor.
“Are you fucking kidding me, Rose? This was your idea! Did you think sleeping together was just going to reaffirm how much you hate me? Sorry for exceeding your impossible expectations, I guess.”
If she’s trying to make me feel bad, it’s not working. “Are you done throwing a fit?”
“Are you done letting your own self-importance get in the way of you enjoying yourself?”
I gape at her. The audacity. “I… How dare… What the fuck?”
She snorts. “Eloquent. Okay, look, do I like that someone I despise made me come harder than anyone else ever has? Fuck no. Am I willing to look past that since we’re already in a shitty situation and I like orgasms? Sure. What’s the risk here, Rose? We’re tied together for three months, anyway.”
I know I’m fucked when Sierra, of all people, starts making sense.
“Okay, okay.” I hold up a hand. “I see your points. I don’t like that I see them, but I see them. If we are going to keep doing this, we should have a more thorough conversation about likes and dislikes. Honestly, I should’ve talked to you more before we started last night. I’m sorry.” It’s not like me to go ahead without having those kinds of discussions, and I hate to think anything I did made her uncomfortable.
