Lover Boy

by Cassie-Ann L. Miller

  “Leo…” I don’t want him to feel bad about this. I can tell how much he needed to be close to someone just now. He needed to kiss me.

  He leans back, eyes down at his feet as his chest rises and falls harshly. He puts space between us then clears his throat. “Let me walk you to your door.” Rising, he doesn’t look at me as he waits for me to do the same.

  My thoughts swirl madly. My head is light. My gut coils at the regret beaming in all directions from Leo’s rigid posture. I wobble as I stand.

  When he hears the heavy thud of my rain boots on the wooden step, he begins our procession, leading me across the lawn and up to my back porch. He stands back and lets me glide the door open with my trembling hand. Drawing a shaky breath, I turn to face him one last time.

  We stand there in silence, watching each other. The air is pulsing. Yes, that kiss was electric but we both know it wasn’t enough. We both want more. My eyes flutter shut and I lean toward him to feel his lips again.

  But his heat disappears completely.

  “Good night, Reese.”

  Stunned and disappointed, I open my eyes and find him backing down the stairs. His eyes are still dark with a heady combination of lust and uncertainty. Despite it, he turns around and plods across the yard, into his house.

  Chapter 13

  Leo

  I’m down on my hands and knees, with a hammer clenched between my fingers. I whack at the nail in front of me, taking out all my damn frustration on it.

  Last night was a sleepless one. I perched on my bed and stared at the ceiling for hours on end, replaying the feel of Reese’s kiss, the warmth of her mouth, the sweetness of her tongue. I wondered what she tastes like between the thighs. I imagined what her lips would feel like around my cock.

  A minute ago, I almost nailed my finger to the plywood as I got lost in the fantasy all over again. Even over the stench of varnish and tile adhesive, I can smell her sugary fragrance. And as my grimy hands wrap around the handle of the hammer, I imagine drawing my fingers delicately along her smooth skin.

  Fuck. Last night was a mistake.

  Last night, I let my grief dictate my actions. My strangling loneliness had me gasping, grasping for something to hold on to.

  I shouldn’t have touched her like that. She’s my friend’s sister. She’s sweet and unstained by life’s bullshit. Plus, I think she has a thing for me. Kissing her probably sent her the wrong message. What a selfish bastard I am.

  Make no mistake—Reese Hartley is a beautiful woman. Perfection. Soft and gorgeous in every way. But I’m all spikes and jagged edges. I shouldn’t be messing with her. I’ll cut her. I’ll tear her to pieces. I’ll damage her. She needs a guy who will treat her good. A guy who can commit to her. Right now, I can only commit to my son. That’s it. So, I have to keep my distance before I end up hurting her.

  I try to reason with my guilty conscience. It was just one little kiss. Just to make the pain go away for a minute. Just of a single moment of peace. I needed to get lost in something other than my own head. I needed a friend other than my own demons. And there she was with her sweet lips and her kind eyes. How was I supposed to resist that?

  A pair of scuffed work boots appear in my peripheral vision. I tip my head back and stare up into Charlie’s face. Smirking, he stretches a bottle of water out to me. I shift back onto my haunches and grab the drink. I grunt out a ‘thank you’ and take a long gulp, hoping to wash down some of my guilt.

  “Come outside and get some fresh air, man.” He leads the way, guzzling down his water as he goes. We dodge around open toolboxes and sweaty workers and step into the sun outside.

  “What’s up?” I ask as I lean against the side of his dirty truck.

  For a moment, I wonder if he knows about what happened with Reese, if he can somehow sense the guilt radiating off of me in waves but I quickly realize that my concern is unfounded. He’s being his regular, old cocky self, eyes are riveted to a trio of young mothers in micro-shorts and crop tops as they jog by, pushing their strollers ahead of them. They bat their eyes at him and wave, singing “Hi Charlie,” in unison like it’s the chorus of a Christmas song.

  With his chest puffed out like a peacock, he grins and waves back before giving me his attention. “Just checking up on you to see how you’re doing.”

  I shrug a shoulder, cupping my hand over my eyes and glancing in the direction of the sun blazing high in the sky.

  “How’s kiddo holding up? Is he doing good in school?”

  “Brent’s fine.” I hope I’m not behaving too strangely. It’s hard to act normal when the only thing I can think about is how I was all over his sister last night.

  He nods to himself as he leans against the truck and swallows the last of his water. “Good, good.” He tosses the empty bottle at the garbage can in the corner of the yard. It hits the rim and ricochets inside.

  We stand quietly for a while. He eyes the pack of smokes that I pull out of my pocket. I tilt it in his direction, offering him one. He shakes his head vigorously. “Hell no, man. I thought you’d quit.”

  I bring a cigarette to my lips and strike a match. “Fucking stressed, man…” I mutter as I cup my hand around the flame so that it catches the cig.

  “You need to drop that habit. It’s killing you.”

  My voice goes testy. “I already know that. I don’t need the lecture.”

  He shrugs and looks away. “Anyway,” he says, easily changing the subject, “how’s that little arrangement with my sister been working out for you?”

  The cigarette smoke slips down the wrong way and I lurch forward, coughing it back up. Charlie pounds a fist on my back with a puzzled expression. “You okay?”

  My throat feels raw and achy after that bout of coughing, strangled by guilt and toxins.

  He tilts his head to the side and watches me like I’m crazy. “Dude—I just wanted to know if Reese and Brenton have been getting along after school. Or if she’s bored him to death with her cupcake monologues yet.”

  “They’re getting along fine.” I scrub the back of my hand over my mouth and nod just as Sophia’s sleek black Audi comes cruising up the street. I see the glare of her diamond ring before I can even make out her face behind the wheel.

  Damn—that thing is the size of a small island.

  “Everything’s fine,” I say a little too eager to move on from the subject. “Boss lady’s coming through. Let’s get back to work before she has a conniption.” My chuckle is fake and uneasy as I lean down to stub out my cigarette on the curb.

  I clearly register the strange look my friend gives me as I stroll past him toward the house. I can’t ignore the caution bells sounding at the back of my mind, telling me that getting close to Reese is nothing but a bad idea.

  I have to make sure she knows it.

  Chapter 14

  Reese

  “Every time I put one of these in my mouth I forget how long it’s been since I last had sex.”

  Snorting a laugh through my nose, I glance up and grin at Cleo as she licks chocolate frosting off of her fingertips. Just past her shoulder, beyond the glass storefront, I see our small town coming to life on this sunny Thursday morning.

  The Broken Cupcake sits right in the middle of town square, with the flower shop on the left and a jewelry store on the right. Renting this spot was Viv’s idea. She figured that since cake goes so well with flowers and diamonds, there was really no better place for our bakery.

  Our rent is steep compared to other eateries around town but it’s worth it. We make serious bank on Mother’s Day, Valentine’s Day, Easter, Thanksgiving, Christmas…Basically all cleverly-marketed festivities that masquerade as opportunities to celebrate communal values when they’re really just an excuse to buy things we don’t need and stuff our faces.

  “You should trademark that,” Cleo suggests wisely as she wipes her hands on a napkin and adjusts the lapels of her double-breasted, pin-stripped Donna Karan powersuit. “Cupcakes so moist they’ll
make you forget your dry spell.”

  I stretch her change out to her. “Thanks for the suggestion.” I’m not sure if Vivian will be open to that slogan but it’s a thought.

  And right now, I’d rather think about anything to avoid thinking about what happened last night.

  Because last night, MY NEIGHBOR KISSED ME!!!

  Holy lady boner!

  He locked his arms around my back, he pressed my body close to his and he slid those soft, pillowy lips over mine. Soft but electric. Languid and exploratory. He gave me a little taste of him and left my body screaming for more.

  I spent the night, wide awake in my bed, replaying the kiss in my head. Under the covers, probing my pussy with my fingers while wishing it were his cock instead.

  He gave me a little piece of himself. A tiny sample. And now I’m itching to peel back the rest of those callused layers to indulge in the whole package. Just thinking about it makes me ache.

  If I’m not careful, this feeling will lead me to do something stupid, something that can’t be undone.

  As much as I try to fight it, my attraction to this man keeps growing. The gloomy shadows in his pale eyes, the anxious grooves running across his forehead, the tense strain in his shoulders. I want to know the reasons—although I’m probably better off keeping my distance—and that kiss did nothing but intensify my curiosity, my longing.

  I turn my full attention back to Cleo as she dumps the coins into my tip jar and tucks the paper bills into her wallet. “Any time, lovely!” She gives me a cheeky wink.

  Cleo is one of my favorites (and not just because she’s Nova’s mom). Thrice divorced, she finally gave up on love after her last husband left her up to her eyeballs in debt. She got into real estate in her late forties and turned things around. Now, she’s a self-made woman and she has the bumper sticker to prove it.

  She’s a central part of my weekday routine. She comes into the shop every morning at 7:59 on the nose and orders the same damn thing—a triple chocolate pecan cupcake and a tall decaf coffee with cream, two sugars and a pump of vanilla—she then leans against the counter, making post-coital noises and offering unsolicited business advice as she devours her sugary breakfast.

  When she sashays out of here at 8:05, I get a chance to flip over the open sign. Bob and Shirley, the perpetually bickering senior couple, usually amble in a few minutes later for vanilla cupcakes. They grab their favorite table by the window and take advantage of the free coffee refills until it’s time for them to go home for their late morning nap.

  Levine and Riggs, the hot cop duo, often stroll in around 9:00 for the box of donuts that gets them through their shift. Levine, recently married, usual goes for three jelly-filled donuts. Meanwhile, Riggs, the unrepentant flirt, just flashes his dimpled smile and tells me that he’ll take whatever I put in front of him.

  The evil soccer moms turn up just after mommy and baby yoga class, with their strollers and their diaper bags and their holier-than-though attitudes. Their ill-mannered kids hoot and holler until they wear themselves out just in time for lunch.

  So the Broken Cupcake is a morning hot spot in this town and I’m used to the routine. It’s what I’m familiar with. Even seeing Charlie’s pickup truck pulling up to the curb right before noon isn’t out of the ordinary…

  But the sight of Leo, sliding his long, lean body out of the front passenger’s seat with that brooding, hot-dad look on his face…the sight of his muscular forearms peering out from under the rolled-up sleeves of his powder blue henley…the sight of his thick, paint-speckled fingers pushing through his dark blond hair as he follows my brother through the front door? That’s new and as my mouth goes dry, I realize that I’m totally unequipped to deal with it.

  Chapter 15

  Leo

  She’s the first thing I see as I step into the bustling, little cupcake shop. She’s standing behind the counter in a tight black t-shirt under the watermelon pink apron tied around her waist. Her dark hair is pulled back from her face in a messy ponytail. I kick myself internally for noticing the rich brown color of her eyes and the soft fullness of her lips.

  Sweet Reese. Cupcake Girl.

  And the way her tongue runs nervously along the plump flesh when she sees me.

  Our eyes meet and my pulse booms in my veins. I still haven’t gotten used to the way my body overreacts to seeing her. Being around her makes me feel less than steady, a little shaky on my knees. The sensation is unfamiliar to me. I’m used to being strong, with an impenetrable will. This girl throws me off-balance.

  Shifting my eyes, I pretend to take interest in the exposed brick walls, the stainless steel sinks, the butcher’s block counter and finally, the display of decadent-looking cupcakes spread out beneath the glass case. But inevitably, my attention comes back to her. I have no choice.

  She’s a goddess. Pure temptation. So beautiful. So perf—

  “Hey big head. What’s the cupcake of the week?” I glare at Charlie as he greets his sister.

  Such brotherly affection. Warms my heart.

  Tearing her gaze away from me, Reese glances at the display case and stutters. “Uh well, uh…we’ve, uh…we’ve got maple-banana split. It’s a banana bread cupcake sprinkled with, um, chocolate, nuts and a cherry on top. And instead of caramel, we used, uh, maple sauce. I mean, maple syrup. An unexpected twist on the well-loved classic.”

  Charlie pauses and looks at her. “You okay? You sound like a late-night infomercial host with a speaking impediment. And you look like you’ve got an upset stomach.”

  Her cheeks pink up and she folds her arms across her chest. “You gonna take it or not, Charlie?” Her voice is impatient.

  He waves her away dismissively. “Yeah, sure.” He faces the customer tables and lets his predatory gaze sweep over the room. He quickly spots something that he likes and strides over in that direction. “You mind bringing it over to my table? I’m gonna go say hi to that beauty over there.”

  Reese makes an unintelligible sound after her brother as he stalks over to the table where a young professional woman is deeply immersed in a novel.

  “Excuse me. Is that the latest Oprah Book Club pick?” he asks.

  Blushing, she nods. “Yes. It’s beautiful. Very moving.” Her hand falls to her heart and she exhales wistfully.

  Charlie bobs his head in agreement. “A breathtaking piece of literature,” he says solemnly.

  “It is.” Her breathing goes wispy.

  He sinks into the seat across from her and leans over the table. “I don’t usually do this but, how about I come over to your place later? To discuss the book, of course.”

  Her eyes are wide, shiny disks. Her lashes flutter at the attention. “I’d love that…”

  Reese rolls her eyes as her pick-up artist brother intertwines the woman’s fingers with his and programs her number into his phone with his free hand. I just shake my head.

  “What a charmer,” I mutter into the air.

  “I know right.” Reese’s eyes move to me and they’re like magnets, pulling me toward the counter when I know for sure that I should be walking the other way. There’s that feeling in my gut again. It intensifies when she sucks in her bottom lip and her eyes smile coyly. Jesus—I’m in trouble with this one.

  Desperate for a deflection, I turn my focus on the cupcakes. “You made all these?” I ask, motioning at the goodies in the case.

  She nods with a smile that’s nervous. She speaks in a voice that’s breathy. “Yes.”

  The corners of my lips climb faintly and our eyes hold. Silence stretches between us for just a second too long.

  She rushes to fill it with her rambling. Now, she’s telling me that she popped the cupcakes into the oven at 3:47 this morning and that she started working on the donuts while they baked. She’s saying that she had to let the cupcakes cool before decorating them so she got started on the frosting mix while the donuts sat in the oven. The next step was icing the cakes and then glazing the donuts. She goes into detai
l about the decoration and display process.

  God—she talks a lot.

  It’s a shaky, nervous kind of disjointed verbosity with lots of nervous giggles thrown in. My gaze is transfixed to her lips the whole time. I study the way they quirk when she speaks and how they lift at the corners when she smiles.

  As she goes on, listing off all the different varieties of cupcakes and donuts and cake pops on display, I don’t really hear what she’s saying. Instead, I let her voice wash over me. It’s calming, soothing. And she’s fucking cute. In an I-want-to-bend-her-over-this-counter-and-frost-her-butt-cheeks-with-my-cum kind of way.

  Fuck, that was inappropriate. I’m becoming a creep. I’m gonna need an outlet for all this sexual tension. Soon. Before I do something that I won’t be able to take back.

  I settle on a classic vanilla cupcake with sprinkles. She boxes it up and I reach across the counter for the treat. I see the way her chest hitches and the way she bites on her lip when our fingers brush.

  The electricity of her touch skitters along the surface of my skin. I instantly drop the box to the counter and, for one hot, irrational, not-thinking-straight second, I lock my fingers around hers. My heart is a wild stallion in my chest, just like it was when I kissed her last night.

  Can’t get last night out of my head. And the look on her face tells me that she can’t either. Kissing her like that was a bad idea. That’s clear now that I’m looking into the brumous depths of her brown eyes. I fucked up.

  I release her hand and throw a quick glance over my back at Charlie. He’s still immersed in his seduction dance with that gullible woman with a taste for literary fiction. Moving closer to the counter, my gaze locks on Reese and I lower my voice. “Are you okay?”

  She inches a careful step back and pastes on a wide smile. “What do you mean?”

  Cocking an eyebrow, I give her a stern look. “You know what I mean, Reese. Are you okay?”

  She steals in a breath and her smile goes wider. “Of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be?”