Page 72 of His Big Bad Stick

“Apologize for what?” I ask.

“I was a bitch.”

“No, you weren’t.”

Jess nods. “I got overwhelmed and snapped a little. And you paid for your coffee. Not cool. I told you not to do that.”

“Jess, please. You’ve done so much for me here.”

“That’s called paying it forward.”

“You’re letting me have this place rent free until I open up.”

She shrugs her shoulders. “Everyone needs a break once in a while.” She wiggles the bag. “And you’re taking a break right now.”

“Cinnamon?”

“Duh,” she says.

She hands me the bag.

It’s sort of cruel how good Jess is as a baker.

This cinnamon, sugary donut thing is… it’s heaven.

“Two of them,” I say.

“Shh,” she says.

“Wait. Who is next door?”

Jess scoffs. “Rebecca showed up. She felt terrible for calling off. Said the guilt got to her. I told her not to talk to me for a bit and then I came over here.”

I take a huge bite, groan and roll my eyes back into my head.

“My grandmother once told me that baked goods should be as good as sex,” Jess says.

I cover my mouth as I laugh, spitting a sugary, cinnamon, powdery haze out of my mouth.

“She’s right,” I say with a mouthful of food.

I eat the first donut embarrassingly quick.

Then I go for the second one.

One bite and I pause.

“Gabs?” Jess asks. “You okay?”

“I don’t know,” I say. “I suddenly just…”

I hold up a finger.

I take a deep breath.

I turn and run and make it to a large trashcan.

I vomit.

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