Page 12 of Sweeter

My phone buzzes. It’s a text from Marley. For a wild moment, I think she knows what I’ve done, then I process the message.

“I’m sorry but we might have to reschedule. My car won’t start.”

“Shit.” I glance at the box of doughnuts and an idea occurs to me.

“What if I come and get you?”I text back.

Instantly, the three pre-message bubbles flash. I hold my breath.Want to see me...please want to see me...

My phone buzzes. A heart-eyes emoji and an address. I punch the air.

“Good news?” the saleswoman asks.

“Great news. I’m going to change Marley’s mind.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Are you now?”

“Yep,” I say, standing up. “Got it all figured out. Could I please have a coffee to go?”

Chapter 5

Marley

I exhale and watch my breath swirl through the frosty air like cigar smoke. I usually skip breakfast, but today I couldn’t eat if I wanted to. I’m too wired on possibilities and lust. I’ve made a plan. Or a plan to make a plan. When Will arrives, I’ll decide whether I can be his friend or if the attraction that kept me up all night will make it impossible. If it’s the former, I’ll give Will his clay throwing lessons, if it’s the latter…

I check my phone—it’s been fifteen minutes since I sent Will my address. He must be close.

As if on cue, a massive, glossy black Chevrolet turns the corner. I spot Will behind the wheel. I burst out laughing. How many times have I judged a tech bro for driving a big ugly truck? Now I’m stupid for the guy inside this one. Isn’t that just like the universe; to take what you know and prove you don’t know anything?

Will parks beside me and rolls down his window. “What’s so funny?”

In the morning sun, he’s even lovelier than I remember with his sandy hair and friendly smile. Warmth spreads through my middle like melting butter and I make my decision, though the smartest bits of me already knew what it was. I wish I had more money and I don’t want to be a manic pixie cliché—but there’s just no way I’m not going to fuck Will Faulkner. No goddamn way.

“Nothing,” I say. “Thanks for coming to get me.”

“Anytime. You look gorgeous.”

I smile. I’m pretty sure I look like shit, but maybe the chemicals surging through my body are doing nice things to my eyes and skin. “Thanks.”

“I’ve got doughnuts and coffee,” he says. “Shall we get going?”

Doughnuts? God, even if we went to the studio, I’d just lie back on the workbench and let him do his thing. “That’s super nice of you, but do you, um, want to come in to my place first?”

Will’s eyebrows pull together. “Is everything okay?”

“Of course! I just think we should hang out. In my house.” I know I sound deranged, but I can’t tell him we should scrap the art lessons in favour of sex while he’s sitting in his fuckboy truck. Who knows who’s watching? What if he rejects me and drives off and all the neighbours see?

Will parks, opens the driver side door, and gets out. In addition to being handsomer than I remember, he’s also taller. He’s justmorethan my fantasies made him out to be, which is saying a hell of a lot. He hands me a takeaway coffee. “All yours. So, what’s wrong with your car?”

“No idea,” I say as delicious heat seeps from the cup into my frozen fingers. “I’m not remotely automobile-oriented. All I know is it won’t start.”

Will points at my boxy red Nissan. “Is that your car?”

“It was. Now it’s just a three-ton rock. Please don’t judge.”

“I invented Hellfire, remember?”

“Oh yeah. You can’t judge anyone ever again. Can you?”

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