Sugar Rush

by Rachel Astor

  “Sounds like a plan,” Nick said, though he was pretty sure he could find something a lot more interesting than writing down her recipe description, which she’d probably memorized ten times over anyway.

  The elevator ride was torturously long. “So, um, just so you know, my dad’s room is next to mine, so we’ll have to be a little careful coming and going, and not talk too loudly once we’re in there. If he hears a hint of a conversation going on, he’ll be grilling me half the day tomorrow about who I was talking to.”

  “It’s all kind of exciting, isn’t it?” she asked, leaning in to him. “The secrecy and everything.”

  It almost killed him the way she said it, all flirty, like she wasn’t only sugar and spice and everything nice.

  He nodded, though he would rather have fewer heart palpitations as they slipped past his father’s room. Dulcie must have been a little overtired, too. She couldn’t suppress the giggle bubbling up as they reached the room.

  Nick’s eyes darted to his father’s door. He held his breath.

  But nothing came out other than a quiet droning of the television.

  He unlocked the door and they slipped inside.

  Nick went straight for the mini bar. “I need something to calm me down. I don’t know if I’m cracked up to sneaking around like this,” he whispered.

  He was being silly—he was a grown man after all—but since he started going against his father’s wishes, he felt a bit like a six year old again. He also knew he didn’t have to whisper, but somehow everything he said came out like that anyway.

  Dulcie giggled again. “Sorry,” she whispered. “I tend to giggle when I get nervous.” Her eyes widened in the cutest way possible. “I don’t mean I’m nervous because I’m in a hotel room with you. I just mean I’m not as confident a sneaker-arounder as I thought I would be.” She took the mini bottle of Merlot he held out to her, unscrewed the top, and downed a sizable gulp before he had a chance to offer her a glass.

  She glanced up as his fingers hung over the paper-wrapped glasses. “Sorry,” she whispered, sheepish. “My manners seem to have left along with my sanity back in the car. It was a long ride up here, what with Grams grilling me half the time and everything.”

  Nick nodded. She was so cute when she babbled.

  “The other half I pretty much spent worrying something would happen to the chocolates or the car would break down and we wouldn’t get the entry here on time.” She peered around, presumably for a clock. “I wonder how long the line is now?”

  “We’ve only been up here for about two minutes. I doubt the line has shrunk much.”

  “Right,” she said, giggling, taking another swig from the wine bottle.

  He put his hand back by his side. There was no way he wanted to give her a glass now. Not after watching her lips pucker the cute way they did to drink out of the tiny opening of the bottle.

  Nick yawned. “Oh God, I’m sorry. It’s been a long day,” he whispered.

  They were in the same room as a bed for the first time in their relationship and he was yawning. What the hell is wrong with me?

  The yawn was contagious. “Sorry,” Dulcie whispered back. “Yeah, a really long day.” She took another sip of the wine and sat on the bed.

  Nick sat beside her, careful to avoid the chocolate box between them.

  She peeked at him out of the corner of her eye, smiling, fiddling with her wine bottle.

  She was too irresistible. He leaned in and kissed her.

  She kissed him back, leaning in over the box of chocolates.

  His hand instinctively went to her hair, soft and inviting. He kissed down her neck as she let out the tiniest of sighs. He wanted this so badly. Wanted her.

  …

  Dulcie’s eyes rolled back. She didn’t know if she was ready for this. Her body was screaming yes, of course, and even her mind seemed to say the same thing, but she was having the hardest time believing this could all be real. That Nick could be for real.

  That things might actually be falling into place in her life.

  Of course, Nick gave Dulcie’s conscious mind very little time to process as his lips swept down her neck, inch by inch, then grazed over her earlobe. Things went very quickly from light fun, to a heat straight out of an incinerator. Nick grabbed the mini bottle from her hand and set both their drinks on the bedside table, reaching behind him as far as he could, thankfully keeping his lips nearby.

  Dulcie leaned with him, grabbing his neck, pulling him close, then scrambled to her knees. Nick followed, also crawling up on the bed. The world fell away and all thoughts of the competition, of the feud, of the little niggles that Nick might still be the enemy disappeared as the heat level in the room rose exponentially. This wasn’t about the rush of sneaking around or the adrenaline of the competition. Nick was so much more than that, and she realized right then that she had finally found someone worth making time for. That she was losing complete control over her own heart.

  Then suddenly, a strange popping noise sounded and something crunched under Nick’s knee.

  She couldn’t figure it out at first. What did he have on the bed? She didn’t remember seeing anything.

  But in an instant, Dulcie froze.

  She opened her eyes wide, even as her lips were still attached to Nick’s. “Oh, shit,” she whispered.

  Nick leaned back, a strange look crossing his face. “What?”

  “My chocolates,” she said, forgetting to whisper. “Oh my God, my chocolates!”

  She could only see a tiny corner of the box, pummelled beneath the sledge hammer that was Nick’s knee. She backed off the bed fast, unable to catch her breath.

  “Oh, shit,” Nick repeated, finally noticing the flattened box, still crushed beneath his knee. His gaze shot back to her, something resembling panic in his eyes.

  “What have you done?” she said, her voice rising.

  “Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” Nick said, his knee still firmly planted on the box.

  “Get off it!” she yelled.

  Nick jumped back off the bed, and with all the sticky caramel nougat, the chocolate box stuck with him.

  She stared at her creation, so thoughtlessly destroyed. How could I have been so stupid? She pulled her hands through her hair, her stomach rolling, threatening to bring the few sips of wine back up. God, she thought as she looked at her sorry excuse for an entry hanging off Nick’s knee, did he do this on purpose? No, that couldn’t be. He didn’t care about the feud. Right?

  Then a glimmer of hope hit her like the sour of a Lemon Drop. “Wait, we brought another box!” She stopped dead and looked up at Nick, who appeared to be sweating. “Oh shit,” she said next. “Grams!” She jolted off the bed, straightening her clothes as she fled from the room, not giving even the slightest consideration to the noise she made.

  …

  Nick followed, grabbing his keycard and peeling the sticky box from his knee, then tossing it on the bed on his way out.

  He glanced at his father’s room as they rushed by, praying he hadn’t heard the exchange. But they got safely to the elevator without seeing anyone.

  “What? What about your Grams?” he asked, having no idea why Dulcie had screamed about her.

  “Grams is a complete chocoholic. Now that I’ve supposedly entered the competition, there’s nothing holding her back from eating the rest of them!” She raised her face toward the ceiling. “Please, candy gods, do not let her eat them.” She closed her eyes as if she were praying.

  Nick shifted on his feet in the elevator. If Dulcie didn’t get her entry in because of him, he would never be able to forgive himself. He looked to the ceiling and sent up a little prayer for her grandmother’s restraint, too.

  The elevator dinged and Dulcie took off like a blur down the hall. Nick stayed in the elevator with his head hanging out. The last thing they needed was for Dulcie’s grandmother to find him there. Especially if she had eaten the chocolates and all was lost.

  Dulcie stop
ped in front of the door, digging in her pockets for the keycard.

  She turned to Nick, panic in her eyes. “Shit! I must have dropped my key in your room!”

  She started banging on the door. “Grams!” she yelled.

  Nick glanced up and down the hall, hoping no one was asleep already. If they were, he doubted very much they would be after this.

  “Grams! I lost my key! Open up, it’s a matter of life or death!”

  Nick watched the door to Dulcie’s room in case he had to jump back into the elevator when it opened, but he wasn’t willing to leave her. Not after it was his fault her chocolates weren’t safely in the hands of the judges.

  “Grams! Come on,” Dulcie said, pounding on the door again.

  Dulcie’s panic deepened as she turned to Nick, at a loss for what to do.

  “I’ll go check my room for your key,” he said. “Maybe your grandmother went out for a while.”

  “Okay, thanks,” she said, but then the door to her room started opening.

  Nick ducked into the elevator, holding it open with his hand, careful not to let it show.

  “What’s the matter with you?” Nick heard her grandmother say. “Who were you talking to?”

  “Uh…n-no one,” Dulcie stuttered. “Just some guy asking where the pool was. Please tell me you haven’t eaten the chocolates,” she begged.

  Nick peeked one eye out of the elevator. Dulcie’s grandmother stood at the door in a bathrobe with a towel on her head. And oddly, feathered high-heeled shoes.

  “I hope you have a good reason for interrupting my bubble bath.”

  “Oh no,” Dulcie groaned. “You always eat candy in the bath.”

  Her grandmother sniffed. “It’s part of my pampering routine,” she said. “It’s the little things in life, you know.”

  Dulcie pushed her way past her grandmother in search of the chocolates, but Nick had a sinking feeling.

  “Oh, don’t get your licorice in a knot,” she said. “I’ve only eaten one so far. And what happened to the others, anyway? Are you actually going to tell me I don’t get to have chocolates with my bath?”

  Nick didn’t know whether he should be relieved or not. Dulcie still had some chocolates…but would the judges accept a partial entry?

  “Sorry, Grams,” Dulcie said, kissing her on the cheek on the way by again. “I promise I’ll make you whatever you want as soon as we get home.”

  Dulcie raced toward the elevator, the second box in her hand.

  “And by the way,” her grandmother called after her, “those are to die for. You got this thing in the bag, kid,” she said, in a sort of Katharine Hepburn impersonation.

  Dulcie stopped and turned back to her. “Thanks,” she said, finally getting into the elevator, a flush coming over her face.

  She couldn’t wipe the smile from her lips as Nick stared. “Oh, uh, she doesn’t dole out candy praise all that liberally,” she said, shrugging.

  “Well, you must have quite a recipe there, then,” he said, nodding toward the box.

  “But shit, what am I going to do? She already ate one. I need four for the judging.”

  Nick nodded. “Okay, well, maybe one is salvageable from the batch in my room.”

  The hope on Dulcie’s face was almost too much for Nick to bear. If there wasn’t at least one in the smashed box, her hopes would be crushed as easily as the box had been.

  “Do you think the judges have ever accepted an entry with three samples?” she asked, chewing her lip.

  Nick didn’t know the answer, but feared it was a resounding no. “I’m not sure. But I don’t see why they wouldn’t.”

  Dulcie looked like she might throw up. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, almost as if she were perfecting some sort of weird butt exercise.

  Not that she needed it, in Nick’s opinion.

  He swallowed the laugh that threatened as the elevator dinged. That was all he needed, to make an even bigger ass of himself in front of her. This girl he couldn’t stop thinking about, couldn’t stop picturing as a big part of his life.

  They hurried to his room. Nick already had his key card out, shoving it into the reader.

  The green light lit up just as the door next to his started opening.

  Nick swung his door wide and shoved Dulcie inside in one motion, half closing the door behind her, hoping the way her head had swung back as her body moved forward was not as extreme as it seemed from his angle.

  Shit.

  “Just heading in now?” his father asked.

  “Yup, went for a walk to wear off a little nervous energy,” Nick said.

  “Did I hear you in there talking to someone earlier?”

  Nick tilted his head, like he was thinking. “No, I don’t think so. Unless someone said hello in the hallway when I came in earlier. I really can’t remember.”

  His father leaned in close. “Well,” he said, “I saw you with that Candy Land girl downstairs, you know.”

  Nick’s heart beat fast, excuses whirring through his mind.

  But the excuses weren’t necessary, he realized, as his father clapped him on the back. “Great job, son! You’ve finally taken some of my advice—just the kind of initiative the leader of How Sweet It Is needs. Stay close to her. You never know when you’ll get your chance to take them down.”

  Nick stood in stunned silence as his father beamed.

  “Well, have a good night,” his father said, disappearing into his room.

  Nick stood slack-jawed for another moment, appalled that his father thought he would actually sabotage Dulcie’s entry, and worse, that he was proud of him for it.

  And that was when he remembered Dulcie was a few feet away, listening to the whole conversation.

  He slipped into the room.

  “Are you okay?” Nick whispered. “I didn’t mean to push you so hard. I just kind of…reacted.”

  Dulcie nodded gingerly. “I’m fine.”

  Her arm twitched and Nick wondered if she was trying not to rub her neck in front of him.

  Damn.

  “Have you checked the chocolates?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “Sorry I was kind of…eavesdropping on your conversation with your father. I was afraid he might be on to us.”

  Double damn.

  “Look, my father is ridiculous,” he said, starting to pace. “He came to me right after I met you and told me I should spy on you. Try to sabotage your entry if I got the chance.”

  “Uh huh,” Dulcie said, looking over at the crushed chocolates.

  Nick’s eyes widened. “But I never would have done it!”

  “And yet, my entry is destroyed.”

  Nick opened his mouth but had nothing to say.

  “Look, I just want to get my entry in,” Dulcie said, obviously skeptical. Nick sent another quick little prayer out to the Universe.

  Dulcie picked up the smashed box, which, to Nick, appeared as though it had been through a car crusher. Okay, not quite that bad, but it was definitely not good.

  Dulcie sighed, letting the sad little thing dangle on her fingertips.

  She did not look hopeful.

  She flipped open the first flap, then sort of had to pry open the other flap as it stuck to the chocolate. Apparently, whatever flavor she’d made was something very, very sticky.

  Nick’s stomach rolled as if he’d eaten a vat full of whatever the sticky was.

  Please let one be okay, please let one be okay, he said in a silent plea.

  Dulcie peered over the edge of the box, into the gooey contents.

  She gasped.

  Nick’s heart beat faster, hoping beyond hope it was a good gasp.

  “I think…,” Dulcie said, tearing down the side of the box. “Yes, I think this one might work.”

  She raced to the little hotel room table and balanced on the edge of one of the ridiculous easy chairs. Nick never could figure out why hotels often put easy chairs at a dining height table. He shook the thought out of his h
ead, and though he felt a little silly, he crossed his fingers. Behind his back, of course, so Dulcie wouldn’t see.

  By now she had the entire box laid flat, having ripped the sides all the way open, sort of like a deranged flower that had been run over by a car, all splayed out with goo oozing from the middle.

  “This one’s intact,” she said, more to herself than to Nick. “But it’s got nougat on it. If I could just…” She ripped off one of the sides of the already torn box, scraping nougat away from what actually did seem like a whole chocolate.

  The cardboard was too flimsy for the job, but Dulcie was determined, and soon she had it almost as good as new; a bit glossier than the good ones in the other box, but all in all, the judges probably wouldn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. She placed a few bits of some sort of decoration carefully on top of the chocolate.

  Dulcie picked up the restored candy and set it in the empty spot in the other box. She let out a long, slow breath as she resealed it.

  “I think it’s going to work.”

  Nick hadn’t realized how tense he’d become watching her fix the fallen chocolate. “Do you want me to come down to the conference room with you?”

  She shook her head. “I’d rather do it myself. I just want to get some sleep and start fresh in the morning.”

  She didn’t believe him.

  Nick nodded, his heart sinking. “Okay, I’ll see you then,” he said.

  “Oh, I should get rid of this,” Dulcie said, folding the gooey box into a somewhat box-like shape again and taking it with her, holding it close, like she was protecting it.

  “Good luck tomorrow,” Nick said as she left.

  “Thanks,” she said, and walked out without saying it back.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The competition, the somewhat less than pristine chocolate in her box of samples, and the suspicion over whether Nick was genuine or not weighed on Dulcie’s mind all night. Of course, Grams’s snore fest didn’t help the sleep situation, so by the time Grams flung the curtains open, singing an old boy-band song, Dulcie was not at her best, to say the least.