Page 38 of Spicy or Sweet
“Shay.” Her lips lift in an amused smile, and she brushes my hair back from my face. “Yes, I’ll tell you. But you’re not going to do anything wrong. We’re figuring it out together, and I’ve got you. Okay?”
“Okay,” I whisper, because her lips are creeping closer to mine, and it’s all I can do to remember how to breathe. She makes me feel out-of-my-mind drunk.
Noelle surprises me by kissing, not my lips, but the tip of my nose. “Who would have thought the person who works in complete and utter chaos would be so frazzled by the idea of going with the flow?”
“I like the chaos, because I like putting it back in order,” I explain. “And it’s not the going with the flow that frazzles me. It’s you.”
“I’m going to take that as a compliment.”
“It is,mon délice,” I say, my blood warming when she sucks in a breath at the French term of endearment.
“I’m torn between wanting to know what that means and not, because the mystery is almost sexier.”
I mime zipping my lips, and she laughs.
“Where do we start? With the whole going with the flow thing?” I ask.
She looks over her shoulder and snorts. “With a new batch of lemon curd, I think.”
19
NOELLE
In my humble opinion, I’m doing a great job of pretending like I know what I’m doing, but I really,reallydon’t.
As far as everyone else is concerned, I’m thriving at The Enchanted Bakery. As far as everyone else is concerned, I’m living the goddamn dream. And as far as Shay is concerned, I’m totally cool and chill about “going with the flow,” whatever the fuck that means.
In reality, I’m floundering.
I’m not even sure why I said it, beyond the fact thatshewas clearly panicking, and we couldn’t both do it. There’s a surprisingly loud part of me that can’t bear the thought of a woman I hated less than a week ago being upset about literally anything. I don’t know why, and I don’t know how, but Shay’s well-being has become somewhat of a priority for me over the past few days, and I’m avoiding unpacking what that means.
She looks good in my apartment. I’m avoiding unpacking what that means, too.
Because Shay called this casual sex. And I… Fuck, I woke up this morning and thought about bringing her to my parents’ house for Christmas. Not exactly casual.
She seemed so anxious, though, so if she wants casual, I can do casual. I guess.
I watch her from the kitchen, pretending to focus on the components of the cocktails I offered to make us—pumpkin spice old-fashioneds. Shay is taking in every detail, her eyes missing nothing as she wanders around my living room. There’s admittedly not much to it; I don’t spend a lot of time here. When I finally moved out of my parents’ house, I more or less copy and pasted my bedroom into this apartment, just spread out a little more.
My taste in decor hasn’t ever changed much. I was born into a Christmas family, and I feel most at home surrounded by twinkling lights, tinsel, and the life-size nutcracker in the corner that scares Sunny every time Rora brings her over here. I may have to get rid of that, actually.
“Do you keep this up all year?” Shay asks, pointing to the Christmas tree in the corner as I pop pumpkin-shaped ice cubes made with pumpkin puree out of the silicone mold.
“Yeah, but I get a real tree closer to Christmas, too.” Artificial trees are a necessity if you keep them up year-round, like my family does, but I love the smell of a real fir tree.
“You should decorate it for each season. A Halloween tree would be cute,” Shay says as I cross the room.
I press the old-fashioned into her hand with a wry laugh. “Next year, maybe.”
Shay brings the glass to her lips, her eyes closing as she sips the drink and lets out a soft sigh. “God, that’s good.”
A drop runs down her lip, and I don’t hesitate to bring my thumb to her chin, catching the drop. Shay flicks her tongue out, licking the drop from my thumb, and my knees almost buckle.
“I like it,” she says after pressing a kiss to the tip of my thumb.
“The drink?”
“That too, but I meant your apartment. It feels like you.”
