Page 14 of Sugar Coated Secrets

“I’m not.”

“Then why are you so grumpy? Is there anything I can do?”

“Yeah, fuck off.”

I hang up. I’d rather get drunk and titty fuck the front desk clerk downstairs than see Summer. Knowing her, she probably posted on social media that Ford Keller is back in Airy.

I get up and head to the bathroom. Ignoring the mildew under the toilet, I take a piss and step into the yellow-stained shower that was white once upon of time. I stand under the hot spray, letting it ease the knots in my aching muscles.

After I shower, I give up trying to dry myself, chafing my skin with a towel. I dry my wet feet on the shitty carpet and sit on the bed. I check the time on my phone. I’m meeting Trent around noon. The bakery opens at eight o’clock. I definitely have time to go see Dulce and have her serve me breakfast.

6

FORD

Pulling into the space in front of the bakery, I look at myself in the rearview mirror. I took extra time picking out what to wear—loose dark wash jeans, fitted white designer T-shirt loose at the waist, white designer sneakers, and a pair of black-and-gold aviators.

I wait ten minutes after she walks in and flips the sign to Open before hopping out of the car.

I feel like I’m getting ready for my first date. My palms are sweaty, my stomach churns, and it isn’t because I’m hungry. I’m nervous for the first time since she got in my car four years ago. It was the only way I could talk to her with no one around, and she wouldn’t tell me to go fuck myself.

In part, it was my fault. I should have done something sooner before Summer and her friends made her a target. By the time Dulce Webster had my attention, it was too late. I had Summer’s attention and fell in line with the rest of my friends.

I kept telling myself it was for the best. That high school isn’t forever. I thought back then that if I showed Dulce any attention, I’d make it worse for her, but now I’m not so sure.

When I walk into the bakery, the smell of freshly baked pastries and coffee greets me. The large display in front of the counter is decorated in different shades of pinks, listing colorful cakes in assorted flavors, some with sprinkles and different colored frosting. It smells sweet, like her skin.

The door opens, and two ladies walk in, chatting. I walk up to the counter toward the coffee machine, ready to order breakfast, but the moment my eyes land on the young woman behind the counter, my anticipation is replaced by a nagging disappointment.

“Welcome to Sugar Coated Sweets. What can I get you?” Katie says in her best voice.

“Dulce.”

Her eyebrows rise, unsure how to respond. Then her eyes gleam. “I’m sorry, but I don’t speak Spanish.”

I remove my sunglasses. “I came to see Dulce,” I clarify even though I can tell from the sassy once-over she gives me that she knows exactly what I meant.

“How can I help you?” she asks defensively.

“You can help me by getting Dulce, please.”

“I mean, I can go ask her if she wants to see you. What’s your name?”

I quirk a brow.

Right.” She rolls her eyes. “One second. I’ll be right back.”

I give her my best fake smile. “Sure.”

She lets out an exasperated sigh, turns around, pushes the back door, and calls out, “Dulce!”

The whirring noise stops. “Yeah?”

My heart beats frantically in my chest, hearing her voice.

“Someone is here to see you.”

“Tell him his coffee is ready, and can you give him what I made this morning?”

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