Forever Craving You

by Nia Arthurs

  I’m still on the floor, my head leaning back on the sofa’s edge. A glance at my phone reveals I just missed the dawn.

  A sound jerks my head around.

  The sliding glass door opens and a figure in a hoodie steps through.

  Teale.

  He runs in place and eyes me over the surface of a water bottle that he lifts to his lips and guzzles.

  I scramble up.

  I’m still a little unsteady, but I don’t let it show. “When did you get back? I was waiting for you.”

  “You sound like my ex.”

  I frown.

  Teale shrugs. “I had a date. It took longer than I thought.”

  He avoids my gaze.

  Worries his bottom lip.

  He’s lying.

  But that’s none of my business.

  “Look, Teale, about yesterday—”

  “It’s fine. I don’t want to know.” He drops the arm holding the water bottle. Steps inside.

  I study him, wondering if I should push the issue.

  “How are you feeling?” he asks before I can make up my mind.

  I decide to drop it.

  “Like my head cracked open last night.”

  “About that… I might have smacked your head on the door knob trying to nudge you in here.”

  “It’s fine. I deserved it.”

  “Yeah, you did.”

  We share smothered smiles.

  “You know what I couldn’t stop thinking of when I was driving you here?” Teale says.

  “Dad?”

  “Wasn’t a good feeling.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I told you. I don’t want apologies. But there’s one way you could make it up to me.”

  “How is that?”

  “There’s this girl—”

  “The same one you spent last night with?”

  “No. This one is different.”

  “Of course she is.”

  “I mean it.” Teale stares into the distance and a look I’ve never seen before crosses his face.

  It’s… sincerity.

  “I asked for her number. She shot me down.”

  “Smart woman.”

  He narrows his eyes. “It was only my first try.”

  “How many do you intend to have until you give up?”

  “I’m hoping to seal the deal this time. Obviously, she’s a woman of class. She’ll need a bigger approach.”

  “That’s where I come in?”

  “No, I’ll handle the talking on my own. I just need an excuse to stop by so soon. Normally, I’d wait a few more days, but I gotta see her again.”

  “Alright. Now I’m intrigued.”

  “Just get changed. We’re heading out in an hour.”

  My curiosity at its highest, I dress and meet him in the living room in half the time.

  We head outside.

  Sunshine banks the sky in golden tones.

  Clouds roll by.

  Birds sing from trees.

  It really is a new day.

  Yesterday’s shadows hide from the sun. Bide their time until darkness reigns again. At least, for a moment, I can breathe.

  Teale leads me to his Jag.

  Presses the alarm.

  We climb in.

  My back sinks into the premium leather.

  The engine purrs.

  The drive is quiet.

  Uncomfortable.

  Not because of the silence—though that leaves a lot to be desired. Teale and I don’t have much in common so the quiet is better than forcing a conversation neither of us want to have.

  I squirm.

  Adjust myself so the borrowed jeans don’t kill my chances of having future children.

  Teale’s clothes are a size too small. I should have gone home to change into my own, but he’d been so eager to get on the road that I didn’t have the heart to suggest making a detour.

  I glance at him. Study his face. The bright eyes. The eager way his fingers curl over the steering wheel.

  I’ve seen him use and throw girls away since he started middle school.

  But this is new.

  He’s got more than a passing interest in this one.

  Just who is the woman my brother’s gone and fallen for?

  I glance out the window.

  See a familiar landmark.

  And another.

  “Hey…” I sit up. Blink twice.

  “What? You know this route?”

  “I—yes.”

  Teale swerves into the empty parking lot in front of Brew Drop.

  My heart squeezes.

  He cuts the engine. Grins. “She’s in there.”

  “Who?” I ask. Like a fool.

  “My new girlfriend.” He pops the door. Climbs out. Trots in front of the hood.

  Gestures come on.

  I move slowly.

  Hook my fingers in the latch.

  Pull.

  Stumble forward.

  The hell? Far as I know, only two women work in there.

  A dark, foreboding cloud inches over the sun.

  Teale better be talking about Zania.

  Because the other one…

  The other one is mine.

  8 Chandra

  I’m in my office balancing our monthly expenses against our income which is—ugh—the most annoying part of owning a business while also having a personal grudge against math, when the door flies open.

  A loud gasps bounces against the cream-colored walls.

  For a moment, I freeze in terror.

  My gaze, previously entangled in the army of receipts and invoices on my desk, crawls up and lands on Zania.

  Her eyes are doubled in size.

  Chest heaves.

  Braids are dashed over one shoulder.

  I scramble up.

  Go into disaster mode.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Remember how I said Griffin’s the sexiest guy I’ve ever seen?”

  My adrenaline slowly recedes.

  “Really? That’s what you came bursting in here to say? I thought we’d gotten robbed or something.”

  Zania rushes forward. Grabs my hand. “I gotta add two more to that list.”

  “What list?”

  “Of sexiest guys.”

  I roll my eyes.

  Zania is level-headed and conservative in most areas—she doesn’t drink, party, or date much. But she collects man-crushes like a grandma collects doilies.

  “Could you do me a favor?” she begs.

  “What?”

  “Pick one and send the loser my way. I’m single.”

  I snort.

  If only.

  When it comes to men, I’ve been ruined.

  Ollie’s still invading my dreams, filling them with his big presence, his big hands and his big...

  Yeah, I’m not thinking about that.

  I saw a therapist a few days ago.

  She told me I’m sexually frustrated.

  Could have figured that much on my own.

  Zania’s almond-shaped eyes narrow in excitement. “They’re asking for you.”

  That stops me in my tracks. “Who?”

  “The guys outside,” she says in a come on, you’re supposed to know this tone.

  “Why?”

  “I’m not sure.” She seems to stop and think for the first time. “I asked the younger one what he wanted and he said ‘the owner’.” Nervous brown hands pull on her braids. “You don’t think they’re here to complain, do you?”

  I pat her shoulder. “Stay in the kitchen. I’ll sort it out.”

  “Thanks, Chandra.” She exhales. Follows me to the kitchen. Stops. “Oh, one thing?”

  I pause.

  Arch an eyebrow what?

  “If they’re really here to complain, don’t tell them I’m the chef, okay? I don’t want them to think badly of me.”

  “If they don’t like your pastries, they’re not worth knowing.”

  “I’m serious
, Chandra,” she says pleadingly.

  I sigh, nod in understanding and head outside.

  We haven’t gotten many complaints about the quality of the food since opening, but I have dealt with a few customers who have nothing better to do than take out their own personal afflictions on our store.

  In those moments, it’s all about being polite, understanding, and quiet.

  The customer’s always right and all that.

  Even if said customer really just needs a cuff to the face.

  I round the bend, prepared for anything. “How can I help…”

  Except for that.

  My eyes collide with a familiar pair of bright blues.

  Dirty blonde hair.

  Pink lips.

  Ollie.

  Electricity skitters in the air.

  The man starring in my dreams every night is right there.

  Wearing the tightest pair of pants I’ve ever seen.

  My eyes glide lower.

  Linger on the imprint behind the zipper.

  My mouth goes dry.

  Oh. Lord.

  Looks like my dreams weren’t so far off about certain… measurements.

  My gaze flits back to his eyes.

  He’s checking me out the same way.

  I glance down, studying the way his tatted arms are busting out of that poor white T-shirt. I imagine running my hands over the taunt fabric. Tearing the material off. With my fingers. My teeth.

  I cross my legs daintily.

  Press my thighs together.

  I’m not the only one affected. Ollie’s reaction is easy to see in those vein-busting pants.

  Tension simmers between us like one of those crazy storms that tackles lampposts and trees. The kind that destroys everything, absolutely everything, in its path.

  “I’m here to collect,” a new voice says.

  It’s jarring.

  Annoying.

  I want to bolt it into a cage, slam the top and keep eye-flirting with Ollie.

  But I can’t.

  This is a business after all.

  Not a place for me to live out my dirty fantasies.

  I force myself to look away.

  Watch the man at his side.

  Surprise patters my chest. “You’re back.”

  The guy from yesterday offers a sleek, practiced smile. “Missed me?”

  I don’t smile back. “Sorry. I only sell cupcakes here. If you need your meds refilled, the pharmacy’s that way.”

  “Hm?” He glances at Ollie.

  “She’s calling you crazy, man.” There’s a hint of a smile on his lips.

  Not-Ollie clutches his chest. “I got hurt again.” He leans against the counter. Blond hair flops into his eyes. It’s supposed to look roguish, but it only seems try-hard. “This time, I’m choosing the bribe.”

  “I’d rather you take me to court.”

  “If you’d stop playing hard to get, I’d take you somewhere way nicer than that.”

  My eyes slide to Ollie.

  He’s standing there, hands hanging loosely at his sides.

  Watching.

  My gaze moves to the other guy and I wonder where my interest from yesterday has gone.

  It disappeared.

  Kabosh.

  Strange.

  Not-Ollie is rich.

  Young.

  The kind to flaunt his money just to prove a point, no matter how stupid and unnecessary that point may be.

  He’s just my style.

  If I played my cards right, I could renovate the bakery with his credit card.

  But—for the first time ever—I have no desire to.

  With Ollie standing right next to him, it’s hard to see anything else.

  Sure, Ollie’s not rich.

  And he’s more comfortable in a T-shirt and rough-looking sneakers.

  And he wouldn’t pay any of my bills.

  But he’s the one in charge of the tingle spreading between my legs. The buzzing in my head. The ache in my chest. The warmth in my cheeks.

  And it’s not just his looks.

  In fact, both guys look similar, but Ollie’s… I don’t know.

  Much tastier.

  It’s like comparing a chocolate mousse cupcake with a plain ole vanilla.

  Not that this guy is plain.

  Or vanilla.

  Not in any sense of the word.

  People all over the world love vanilla.

  Zania had a right to call them both sexy.

  But Ollie… Ollie is mouth-watering.

  At least to me.

  My eyes skate to him again.

  My hands tremble.

  Begging for a touch.

  It’s been so long since I’ve seen him outside of my dreams.

  My body throbs.

  I just want to act out one scenario.

  Just one and I’ll be fine.

  It’s literally all I’ve been thinking about.

  “I heard you weren’t feeling well,” I say instead.

  His posture stiffens. I don’t know why, but I feel like I’ve touched a nerve.

  Blue eyes skitter to the ground.

  He exhales loudly. “Cobie told you?”

  “She heard from Griffin.”

  “I’m fine,” Ollie says.

  I’m not, his eyes say.

  Something about that bothers me.

  The avoidance.

  The ambiguity.

  The lack of trust.

  I want him to trust me with his worries.

  What?

  Maybe there’s a shred of genuine interest behind my lust.

  Or maybe I’m just crazy.

  “Do you… know each other?” Not-Ollie glances between us. For the first time, I see the uneasiness in his eyes. The womanizing player disappears and reveals a hint of insecurity.

  Ollie clears his throat. “Chandra, this is my brother, Teale.”

  “You’re brothers?”

  My mind explodes.

  That explains why they look so much alike.

  Obviously.

  I didn’t even consider that the flirty guy from yesterday could be related to Ollie.

  “Teale this is Griffin’s girlfriend’s...” He stops. Regards me. “I mean...” He quirks his lips. “We’re friends.”

  Something warm spreads in my chest.

  It’s quickly stomped out by doubts.

  Friends?

  “I can’t date you, Chandra.”

  His rejection echoes in my head.

  A line.

  A boundary.

  A damn electric wire fence.

  Ollie probably won’t allow himself to touch me, even for one night, will he?

  I frown. “Yup. Just friends.”

  Teale glares at his brother.

  Tension sprouts between the two men.

  It’s thick.

  Smothering.

  Deeper than the eye can scan.

  I step backward. My instincts scream that I do not want to be caught in the middle of this fight.

  And then I stop.

  Pause.

  Grin evilly.

  Or maybe the middle of their sibling rivalry is exactly where I need to be.

  9 Ollie

  “Bro.” Teale motions to a table. “A moment?”

  I tear my eyes away from Chandra with an audible riiip. “Yeah.”

  Teale slips a hand into his pocket.

  Walks stiffly to a corner.

  Grabs my shoulder.

  Leans in.

  To be honest, I’m glad for a moment away from Chandra if only to adjust my pants.

  Damn it.

  She glided out of the kitchen and I was not prepared for how my body would react.

  Let’s just say everyone in the room could tell that I liked what I was seeing.

  A lot.

  That bright yellow dress didn’t help.

  Especially not the way it hugged her curves.

  Or contrasted her flawless ebony skin.

&
nbsp; Or made her brown eyes pop.

  I know red is Chandra’s favorite color, but I’m thinking mine is that exact yellow she’s got wrapped around her body.

  I imagine my fingers peeling her out of that dress.

  The thought sets me on fire.

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  Just yesterday, I made a complete fool of myself. Had my brother picking up after me. Had Griffin worrying.

  Just yesterday, my world crashed.

  As it has before.

  As it will again.

  And again.

  I’ve got no business wanting to undress Chandra. To kiss her. Hear her purring beneath me. Looking up at me with those dark eyes, usually guarded and cold, melting, hazy with lust.

  Because of me.

  For me.

  I’ve got no right to want that.

  End of story.

  “What’s going on with you two?” Teale asks.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Don’t play stupid.” He stares into my eyes, tearing apart my intentions. My thin walls of indifference. “You screwed her?”

  For some reason, that pisses me off. “Shut your mouth before I break your jaw.”

  He just barely smiles. “You haven’t.”

  I growl.

  “But you want to,” he adds.

  My fingers ball into fists.

  Hell yeah. “No.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “What?”

  “That she’s yours?”

  “She’s not.” The words singe my tongue. “Like you heard. We’re just friends.”

  “So you’re okay if I take her out.”

  I pin my lips together. “If you can convince her.”

  “You think I can’t?”

  Given the way Chandra responded to him earlier, his chances aren’t that great.

  The woman hardly tolerates him.

  And I love that.

  I shift back. “Chandra’s not a trophy. She chooses who she wants to spend time with.”

  “You’re infuriatingly confident.” Teale narrows his eyes. Pins me down with his stare. “Something already happened between you, didn’t it?”

  I shake my head. Teale’s too nosy for his own good.

  “Fine,” he says.

  “Fine?”

  “I’ll back off.”

  That condescending tone of his annoys me. “Because you don’t like her anymore or because you don’t stand a chance?”

  “You’re still an idiot,” Teale mumbles. He runs a hand through his hair. He’s got wavy locks thanks to Dad, but we’ve both got Mom’s dark blonde shade. Though hers is more grey than blonde now. “I don’t know why I’m stepping aside for you when you don’t even appreciate it.”