Page 48 of Sweet Rivals

As I walked home, it dawned on me that Jared probably felt just as bad—actually way worse—than I did. I had run out of the bathroom, then the bakery, like it was on fire without a word to him. If I had to guess, I imagined he felt like a creep.

“Well, serves him right,” I whispered to myself. He was jerking off in the bathroom after all. Although, I wasn’t really one to talk. I had orgasmed in the walk-in, thanks to him. Would I ever be able to step foot in the bakery again? I certainly wouldn’t be able to fetch ingredients or use the bathroom without blushing for the rest of eternity. This was exactly why I wanted to avoid anything close to intimacy with Jared. Part of me wanted to give up on the competition. Send a text that he won.

I still couldn’t wrap my head around what the hell had happened. Could I blame my lapse in judgement on the cold or the anxiety? I shrugged. I was gonna have to because there simply wasn’t any other explanation.

When I got home, I took the longest, hottest shower of my life accompanied by flashbacks to the walk-in and the bathroom that ignited my body with a burning desire all over again. I worried the only way I would be able to ignore my primal need for Jared would be to bail entirely and never set foot in that bakery again. Although I would never admit to another living soul, watching Jared jerk off had been insanely hot. It made my whole body run warm before I remembered we were supposed to be rivals and nothing like that could ever happen again. I didn’t know how the hell to be around him without picturing him pulling down my shorts and panties and pressing his cock between my thighs. Wondering what it would feel like if instead of cumming on my stomach, he filled me instead. The thought left me lightheaded and distracted. Still, on some level, it felt good to know that what we had done in the walk-in had turned him on too.

“Stop being crazy, Jenna!” I chided myself. I had to get my shit together, but my promise to Joel still hung over my head. I had no interest in going to the bakery for a meal? Another date? A friendly meal? A cooking lesson? With Joel.

My brain was entirely mush. I worried I wouldn’t be able to form a coherent sentence, which had been a common problem lately. I blamed Jared, which didn’t help my denial that I had any sort of attraction to him. “I’m allowed to have fun. I’m allowed to have fun,” I told myself in the hopes I would start to believe it. I was really putting my self-help books to the test lately.

I reluctantly got dressed and ready to go back and face the brothers that were systematically destroying my life and my sense of self and sanity. But somehow, I couldn’t move. I thought about messaging PotatoBake888.

“Ahh, PotatoBake888,” I groaned, covering my face in my hands and rolling over.

What would he think if he knew? He could never know, that was clear. Part of me felt like I had betrayed him too. He had never given any indication that he wanted our friendship to be more than just words on a computer, but still, I at least had real feelings for him.

“You can’t be expected to be celibate for a stranger on the internet, Jenna.” For all I knew, he had a new girlfriend every other day.

The longer I lay there, the clearer it became that I wasn’t going back to the bakery. At least not while Jared, or even Joel, were there. Performative people pleasing be damned, I picked up my phone.

Jenna: I don’t think I’m gonna make it back today. I’m not feeling great. Let’s plan another time!

Always end with an exclamation point—no problems here—I'm still bright, happy, cheery Jenna. Sometimes I wondered if there was a real Jenna. Underneath all of the niceties and people pleasing, did a real Jenna exist at all?

That’s why I liked baking. It was the one moment that I was truly myself. I could explore me, my interests, my passions, my everything when I was baking. And magically, people still liked me. Probably because I was feeding them sweet confections, but it didn’t matter because it was still a reflection of me.

Joel: Feel better. Let me know.

See, periods are no good. They convey no emotion and cause undue anxiety. Was he pissed? I’d never know.

I stayed on my bed far too long, unwilling or unable to move even for my basic needs. My thoughts oscillated from mortifying embarrassment to panic to hopeless defeat. No amount of scrolling my phone helped distract me. Everything that popped up on my Instagram feed just reminded me again of my predicament. I wasn’t prepared to walk away from the bakery, therefore, I had to see this thing through. But how? How could I avoid Jared at all costs while running a bakery beside him?

An idea occurred to me as the sun moved through the sky, creating longer, deeper shadows. Maybe I could test my recipes and plan my menu without seeing him. For the first time in a long time, I wished my apartment had a better working kitchen, so I didn’t have to steal into the bakery for some cooking time. Once I had a plan, I was able to get out of bed. I dressed in all black to match my mood of my stealth mission. I sketched out ideas, made a frantic grocery list, then walked—reusable bags in hand—to the grocery store. I spent more than I had wanted out of my own pocket. Maybe I could leave the receipt on Jared’s desk for reimbursement, but that wouldn’t matter if I nailed down the menu.

I got to the bakery well after dark. Given Jared’s propensity for sneaking up on me, I walked the perimeter of the building, peaking in all the windows. When I was positive he wasn’t inside, I unlocked it with the key he had made for me and got to work.

I baked at a frenzied pace, making notes in my sketchbook on changes to make, what worked and how to tie it all together. I decided my menu would have a theme that tied the items together. Maybe that was silly, but I wanted the opening to convey a feeling beyond just yummy pastry. I wanted it to be me and Cape Shore and carefree summers all rolled into a delicious baked good. What had felt impossible earlier in the day started to come together in the dim light of the bakery as I moved around all by myself without anyone looking over my shoulder.

Since this whole thing started, I let my doubt and worry and imposter's syndrome claw at me until I couldn’t think. But regardless of Jared’s status, I was a good baker, and for the first time in weeks, I felt confident. Maybe I wouldn’t win in the end, but I wouldn’t give up until it was over.

I locked up the bakery at five a.m. as the sky turned a milky grey and the humidity simmered just out of reach, threatening a hot day. I left my receipt on Jared’s desk along with a note:

Jenna: My menu is ready. I will be here when the renovations are complete.

I didn’t plan on seeing Jared or Joel until I absolutely had to. I had no idea how Jared interpreted our scandalous, ill-advised tryst in the walk-in, but it didn’t matter. His feelings, or anyone else’s, weren’t my concern. Winning a spot at the bakery was the only thing that mattered.

Chapter Thirty-Four

My computer dinged with a message when I woke from the longest nap of my life. I had stayed up for over twenty-four hours in the quest to perfect my men,u and when my head hit the pillow, I fell into blissful unconsciousness. I missed the peace of sleep now that I was awake and all my problems came rushing back, not least of which was the message waiting for me.

I didn’t want to talk to PotatoBake888. Well, that wasn’t true. I always wanted to talk to him. I practically lived for talking to him. He had the ability to make me feel good no matter what was going on. I didn’t think I was projecting the idea that he understood me better than anyone else in my life. But I felt too shitty to message him. He would ask me about dinner without any understanding of what happened in the walk-in. I would have to live with that mortifying secret. It was easy to keep secrets when we were only talking on the computer, but it made my stomach queasy.

I would have to talk to him eventually. I couldn’t just ghost him, but I didn’t know when I would be ready or what I would say. I texted Cat instead.

Jenna: Wanna grab coffee?

Cat: Yep

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