Page 25 of Cream and Punishment
Would it kill him to save some good looks for the rest of us poor schmucks? Seriously, it should be illegal for someone to look this amazing first thing in the morning. Mussed hair that gave me the most irrational urge to comb my fingers through it. The slightest five o’clock shadow accentuating his jaw and making his white teeth pop even more. A light blue hoodie that practically made his skin glow.
“Are you even human?” I blurted.
His brow furrowed in confusion, and I cringed. Why couldn’t I say normal things? Like a normal, well-adjusted human being?
Actually, don’t answer that.
“Sorry, that came out wrong.”
Way to dig myself in deeper with him. It was the guilt and the guilt alone that kept me from speed walking my sorry little butt out the door and into the relative safety of the four A.M. riffraff.
To cover up my slip, I waved at him—yes, from three feet away—and smiled so wide my cheeks hurt. Like a normal person. “Good morning, Max. You heading to the gym again?”
He pressed his lips into a tight line. “Actually, I felt like going for a walk first.”
I blinked dumbly. “The sun isn’t even up yet.”
“Which makes it the perfect time for a walk, no?” He looked me over from head to toe, sending a shiver down my spine in the process. “No umbrella today?”
“I forgot it at work.”
Unfortunately, that was true. I’d been so caught up in closing the bakery down properly last Thursday that I’d left it by the back door. I’d intended to bring it home every day since yet always managed to forget. This especially sucked a few days ago when we got two rainy mornings in a row.
Speaking of the bakery, I really had to get going, so I headed toward the stairs.
Max fell easily into step beside me. “Don’t you normally have Fridays off?”
I faltered a step. He’d remembered that?Ibarely remembered telling him that last week. Was he memorizing my schedule so he could slide raw fish under my door when I wasn’t home? Pour a bunch of Legos on the hallway floor with a “no shoes allowed” sign? What was he planning?
My promise to Kris came to mind, and I blew out a breath. He hadn’t done anything truly malicious—yet—so there wasn’t any use cycling through thewhat ifs. I’d promised I’d at leasttryto keep an open mind.
“Usually, yeah,” I replied, nodding my thanks when he held the door open for me. Huh. He’d done that last time, too. “This week is a little different, since my boss is out of town. I’m kind of running things in her absence.”
He gave a low whistle. “That sounds like a lot of responsibility.”
I snorted. This time, it resembled a dying bagpipe, an inhumanly loud squawk that sliced through the still morning air. I walked faster, hoping he wouldn’t dwell on the crime against all Scottish-kind.
He, of course, caught up within two strides.
“It is,” I finally answered. “But I like it. I think.”
Did I? I knew I loved baking, creating something delicious out of simple things. The challenge excited me. The familiarity comforted me. Butmanaginga bakery? I used to love it, despite its downsides.
Now? I didn’t know anymore.
The churning, boiling feeling in my gut that I felt every time I thought aboutthe incidentwith Max or the fiasco with Besserman returned. Furiously. I wrapped my arms across my midsection in a vain attempt to stop the riot my guts were inciting.
Something else Kris said last week drifted through the discomfort.I think you tend to handle rejection a little…differentlythan most people. Was that what this was? Didn’teveryonefeel this way, even months or years later?
“How does rejection make you feel?” I asked, the words bursting out before I could stop them.
Max paused, his face illuminated faintly in the building’s light and his mouth already open. Aw,meatballs, was he talking and I interrupted? He didn’t deserve that. Healsodidn’t deserve random, overly sensitive questions, either.
“Sorry. Again.” I covered my face with my hands. Was it too much to ask for a sinkhole to spontaneously open beneath me and suck me under forever? “I was off in my own little world. What were you saying?”
Unfortunately, walking with your eyes covered isn’t the wisest choice. I stumbled on a crack in the sidewalk, overcorrected, and somehow bumped into Max.Hard.
A softoofescaped him before steel-like arms righted me. “Easy there, Tiger.”
