Page 54 of Spicy or Sweet
“Holy shit,” I pant. “I don’t think I’ve exerted my body this much since high school.”
My vision is hazy, but I’m pretty sure she raises her brows. “Damn. We had very different high school experiences.”
“I did triathlon,” I say, halfheartedly tugging the ends of her hair.
“My previous comment still stands. Head elf of the Christmas Club, remember? I wasn’t exactly an athlete.”
I laugh, but I’m still so out of breath that it comes out more like a wheeze. “I imagine in a town like this, head elf is a role more coveted than quarterback.”
“Oh, yeah. I was a big deal around here.”
“You still are,” I point out, and she wrinkles her nose. “I can’t imagine you in high school,” I continue, changing the subject, because I know how uncomfortable the weight of Wintermore’s expectations makes her. “Don’t get me wrong, I can absolutely imagine you as head elf, but I can imagine you doing that now, too. I know you’re a lot younger than me, but I guess it just feels like you have everything figured out. Like you’ve always had everything figured out. You’re so sure of yourself.”
“I’m pretty sure of myself, that’s true,” Noelle agrees. She cups the side of my face, absentmindedly drawing her finger over my cheek in a way that makes me think she’s playing connect-the-freckle. “But I don’t have everything figured out. Honestly? I feel like I have exactly nothing figured out right now.” Her finger stills on the freckle beside my mouth. “Can I tell you a secret?”
“Anything,” I murmur, and I think my heart might beat all the way through my ribcage and out of my chest, because I don’t think I can handle her telling me she doesn’t want to do this anymore right now.
“I think…” She hesitates, biting her lip and scrunching up her face. It’s adorable. “I think I kind of hate owning the bakery.”
That is… not what I expected her to say.
“Shit,” I respond, because I’m not sure what else to say. “What do you hate about it?”
“Everything?” she replies, rolling onto her back and staring up at the ceiling. I mirror her, taking in the twinkling glow-in-the-dark stars. When I asked about them, she said she and Rora had them in their rooms as kids, and she wanted to keep them with her when she moved out because they remind her of Rora.
“Okay, maybe not everything,” she amends, “but I feel like I’m being stretched in a million different directions every day, and I never get to just bake. When I do bake, I’m rushing so much that I don’t enjoy it, and the baking is what I wanted to do, you know? And I know admin is just part of owning a business, I get it, but that’s not really the problem. I spend most of my time out front because people get disappointed if they come in and I’m not there. I understand how lucky I am, and that the town has been nothing but good to me, but god… Do you ever wish you could just bake and not worry about all the other stuff?”
Her eyes are dull, like tumbled sapphires, and I want nothing more than to put the sparkle back where it belongs. I scoot closerto her, lifting my arm over her and running my hand down her back. Her eyes flutter closed.
“I’ve worked in a lot of kitchens over the years. Honestly, I thought the biggest perk of owning my own place in a small town would be getting to spend more time engaging with people and immersing myself in the community. But it’s been lonelier than I expected. I’ve spent so long keeping to myself, scared to put myself out there, that now I pretty much never leave the kitchen.”
I worry that Noelle will think it’s stupid. After all, her problems are out of her hands, and mine have been because I’ve been holding myself back, but when she opens her eyes, she just looks concerned for me.
“I know it’s easier said than done, but you should let people in. The people here really like you, sweetheart. Trust me, more people than I can count have spent the past few years trying to convince me you’re nice. They were right, obviously, but don’t tell anyone I said that,” she warns, scowling so dramatically that I can’t help but laugh.
“Noted. But you’re also right, if it helps. I know I need to let people in more.” I brush my thumb across her lips. “I’m sorry your dream isn’t what you thought it would be,mon délice.”
“I’m sorry you’ve been lonely since you moved here,” she replies before pressing a kiss against my thumb.
Truthfully, I’ve been lonelier since before I moved here. Philippe and I were nothing more than roommates for a while before we called it, and even before that, I never felt truly fulfilled. But now… “I don’t feel so lonely anymore,” I say. Noelle’s eyes light up, and my heart skips a damn beat.
27
NOELLE
Anon-Christmas-themed party in Wintermore is rare, and I should be enjoying myself a lot more, all things considered. I should be celebrating with everyone else; I’ve busted my ass for weeks for this movie, and it’s finally done. The cast and crew are leaving town, and this time next year, they’re going to help us put Wintermore back on the map when the movie comes out.
Everyone is excited. Everyone is happy. People are dancing, drinking, and laughing. Uncle Henry is spinning around the makeshift dance floor in the middle of the town hall with Sunny in his arms while Rora watches them, her eyes glittering. Rora at a Wintermore party is cause for celebration in and of itself. My parents are talking to some of the crew, Felix is helping Abigail throw darts against the back wall, Shay is laughing with one of the actresses from the movie, and I’m losing my mind. Because Shay is laughing with one of the actresses from the fucking movie, and I, apparently, have a jealous streak.
I know it has less to do with Shay talking to someone else and more to do with the fact that she apparently refuses to talk to me. Well, talk to me about what Iwantto talk about, anyway. Us.
Not a want, in fact. A need. Because as of last night, we’re no longer working together, and I have no idea where things stand.Anytime I try to broach the topic, she shuts down, changes the subject, or distracts me by slipping into the conversation that she isn’t wearing underwear… Okay, that was just once, but it did the trick.
It has to be intentional. Every day for the past week, I’ve mentioned that I wasn’t feeling great about the movie wrapping. Initially, Shay took that to mean that I just didn’t want to go back to working so much at The Enchanted Bakery—which I don’t, and she knows that, which meant it was all too easy for her to distract me by getting me to open up more about what I dislike about my job.
Every time I’ve brought it up since that conversation—underwearless incident aside—Shay’s gone out of her way to assure me that it’s going to work out, that it’s okay to take a step back. She’s been unbelievably sweet about it, and I’m not sure how to get from her reassuring me to,actually, the reason I’m so out of sorts is because I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with you, and I have no idea what to do about that.
I’ve never been in love before. I’ve never been that lucky. And I suppose I can’t know for sure that this is that, but it sure feels like how I imagined. Of course, whenever I’ve imagined it, I pictured something a little lesscasual, a little lessfriendly.
