Page 103 of There's No Us Without You
Hopefully.
Eden glances over her shoulder once she has the door open. “Come on, big guy. I want you to try something.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I say, following her inside.
She practically skips into the kitchen and dumps the bags on the kitchen bench before heading into the walk-in pantry. A soft hum comes from inside it, until she walks back out with a box of brown sugar and cinnamon Pop-Tarts, grinning like she’s some evil mastermind.
“Oh, Christ,” I say, shaking my head. “You do realise whatever you have planned isn’t going to work on me, right? I’m not eating those things.”
“Oh, come on.” Eden pouts. “You need to try one just once, then I pinky promise I will never ask you to eat one ever again.” She holds out her left hand, her little finger pointed at me.
“I will make no such deal,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest in defiance.
Eden huffs while shaking her head. “Fine. But you just wait, superstar. You’ll be begging me to try it when I’m finished.”
“Doubt that,” I say, but I can’t stop the grin on my face from growing wider at her little pet name for me. I love that she thinks I’m a superstar—I just don’t feel like one.
All I get is the narrowing of her eyes as she places the box down and reaches into a bag. Her movements are slow, the suspense she’s attempting only making me shake my head.
But I’m in deep shit because I can’t stop staring at her. The way her hair sits on top of her head like she’s just thrown it up, not caring. The way the small baby hairs stick to the back of her neck. The same neck that draws my attention all the way down until it reaches her full breasts almost busting from that low tank top she’s wearing.
Two tubs of ice cream are pushed in front of me—one chocolate, one vanilla—taking my heated gaze away from her body.
“Vanilla, huh?” I lick my lips, imagining the stickiness of the ice cream mixed with Eden’s sweetness.
My dick is now hard and pinched against the front of my shorts, and if I don’t get my shit together, I’m going to lose a nut with the amount of tension building down there.
Not having sex is killing me slowly. There’s only so many times a man can jerk off before his dick actually falls off.
“Hey now,” Eden says as she snaps the seals on the lids and peels them from the tubs. “Nothing wrong with vanilla. Besides, I’m not done yet. Just you wait.”
Christ.
I’m drawn to her, the way she ever so slowly reaches into the second bag and pulls out a packet of marshmallows, her grin spreading further, if that’s even possible.
“No fucking way,” I say, waving my hands in front of my face. “You’ll have to pin me down and force feed me if you’re going to get me anywhere near that amount of sugar.”
Eden groans and places her hands on her hips. “You don’t like marshmallows either? What do you like then?” Eyebrow raised, she sucks in her cheeks.
For starters, I like her.
A lot.
And I’m pretty sure I’m in love with my best friend, but we aren’t going to unpack that hot mess right now, so instead, I lean over the island, dip my finger into the chocolate tub of ice cream to scoop some up, then place it into my mouth.
“Chocolate. I like chocolate.”
With her eyes on my mouth, Eden licks her own lips before shaking her head slightly. “Well then,Mr Chocolate, I’m going to make you the best ice cream sandwich you’ll ever eat.”
“Nope. Not happening.”
“Suit yourself.” Eden shrugs, then drops two of the pastries into the toaster.
Once toasted—the scent of cinnamon filling my nostrils—Eden takes a large spoon and scoops out a portion of the vanilla ice cream before placing it on one Pop-Tart. Next, she takes four marshmallows—two white and two pink—and places them evenly on top of the ice cream. The second Pop-Tart is placed on top next.
Then she does the same with two more Pop-Tarts and the chocolate ice cream.
My heart rate spikes, the smile on her face like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Wherever she’s gone to right now has her radiating. Now I know why Will calls her Sunshine.
