Page 50 of Cream & Sugar
“Don’t worry about it,” I reassure him. “Though I’ve got no more T-shirts so if it happens again, you’ll just have to go topless.”
Stop it, Shaun…
Freddie snips the tip off the piping bag. “I thought that was against the uniform code?”
I shrug. “Topless barista? There might be a business model there, you know!”
Shut up, shut up, shut up!
Freddie gasps in mock-offence.
“Are you suggesting you want to pimp me out?” A flash of mischief in his eyes. “Can’t say I’d be totally against that,ifI get a share of the profits, of course.”
I linger in the doorway, pretending to deliberate. “Let me speak to my people and get back to you.”
“I’m assuming ‘your people’ is your cat?”
“Oi!” I narrow my eyes. “How did you know?”
My thoughts race as I leave Freddie to piping.
I've been learning a lot about myself these past few days. Apparently, I’ve got zero impulse control. At least, not around him. And I’ve never thought of myself as much of a flirt, but that boy certainly brings it out in me. I’m getting whiplash from the constantclash of heart versus head. This is like fighting a war against myself, only I’m not sure which side is winning.
I unlock the front door and peer out onto the street. West Marbank is waking up. Early morning dog walkers stroll by on their way to the beach while cars and cyclists race each other to work. Pale dawn light illuminates the esplanade, glittering off the frosty ground.
It’s freezing, but my chest is full and warm as I look out on the picture-perfect view. I haven’t felt like this in weeks. Despite all my complicated feelings for Freddie, I’m actually happy to be at work. I humour myself trying to pinpoint what’s changed, like I don’t already know. There’s only one thing, really. The obvious thing.
No one comes in for the first few minutes, so I have time to arrange the two cakes I’ve iced in the display fridge, leaving enough space for Freddie’s chocolate one.
“Getting on okay back there, Freddie?” I call towards the kitchen.
“No Freddie here,” comes his reply. “Just Pete Hollywood.”
I roll my eyes but can’t hold back a smile.
The door jangles open and I look around to greet our first customers of the day.
Then my jaw hits the floor.
17
Freddie
Sobeingcoveredincake mix is a look. Not one of my finest moments. On the bright side, Shaun certainly got an eyeful out of it.
Any lingering suspicions I had, that that boy isn’t into men, have been obliterated. I’ve had subtler eye-fucking by drunk bears at Sabre on a Saturday night. And fuck me, if Shaun isn’t getting sexier by the day! I’ve never been jealous of a sack of flour until I watched him manhandle one like it weighed as much as a feather pillow. Wish he’d toss me around like that. And that shy little smile he wears when he’s showing me how to bake, like butter wouldn’t melt.
Oh man, the things I would do to him.
I thought I screwed up again when he ran out of the kitchen like that—yes, I was pushing the line a little further than I meant to—but clearly the sight of me covered in brownie mix was so much of a turn on that he forgot all about it. It was probably cruel to strip off in front of him; he was practically drooling when I cleaned the batter off my chest. Probably would have licked it off himself if I’d asked him—and he had the cheek to tellmenot to flirt! The dirty perv.
By the time I’ve smoothed a layer of frosting on top of the cake, I’ve decided to screw professionalism and resume actively trying to seduce Shaun. Restraint just isn’t for me, although I gave it a good shot—two whole days of reining back the charm! I must be growing up. Besides, I’ve got Rory back in my good books so I can afford to take a little more risk.
I step back to admire my work. The cake looks rad, or at least, as good as I’m gonna get it. I can see why Shaun likes this baking malarky. When rogue appliances aren’t actively trying to kill you, it’s pretty fun!
I put down the spatula in time to stifle the mother of all yawns. Bloody hell, I’m knackered. My head feels heavy and my eyes are as dry as a pair of badger arseholes. Still, I can’t bring myself to drink the coffee Shaun made me. It’s way too bitter. Luckily, I had my back turned when I took a sip so I could hide the revulsion on my face. I wish he wasn’t so bloody nice or I wouldn’t feel so bad about not drinking it. Guess I’ll have to tell him the truth at some point. Maybe after I’ve passed my probation,oronce he finally admits he has the hots for me. Whichever comes first.
Gingerly, I slide a pair of spatulas under the cake and lift it onto a tray. Then, picking it up like it’s made of glass, I carry the cake out of the kitchen.
