Licked (L.A. Liaisons Book 1)

by Brooke Blaine

  Clearing my throat, I said, “So, you’re Cameron’s roommate?”

  “Well, I’m definitely not his lover.”

  The coffee I had just sipped came sputtering back up, and my face burned with heat as he tossed me a hand towel. I dabbed it at my mouth, wanting to crawl into a hole. “Right. Thanks.” Nothing else wanted to come out, and I had to blame the early morning hour on my lack of witty repartee. I sure as hell wasn’t about to admit he had me feeling intimidated. Think, Ryleigh, think. Suck down that coffee, let the caffeine fuel your brain, and come up with something hilarious. Now would be good. Any day now…

  “And you would be?” he asked.

  Oh, of course. I’m the stranger sleeping on his couch. Brilliant.

  “Ryleigh Phillips,” I said. “I went to school with Cameron.”

  “Oh, right, the reunion. That was last night?”

  When I nodded in the affirmative, he cocked his head to the side. “You know, if you’d been my guest, I wouldn’t have made you sleep on the couch.” He unleashed a full-wattage smile at me then as I sat there, only able to blink.

  And wouldn’t you know it, right about the time I was staring at him, stupefied, would be the moment Cameron’s bedroom door opened.

  Still dressed in the outfit he’d fallen asleep in the night before, Cameron stood in the doorway looking slightly rumpled but nowhere near as rough as I had upon waking. When he saw me, he dropped the hand that had been gripping the back of his neck, his expression somewhere between surprise and relief.

  “Hey,” he said, a slow grin crossing his face.

  I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to get up, run out the door, hug him, or what, so I just stayed ass-planted on the stool while I waited for him to make a move. “Hey.”

  “Hey,” the other male voice in the room said, mimicking us, and it hit me then that I hadn’t even bothered asking his name.

  “Oh what’s up, man,” Cameron said, walking toward the kitchen bar. He nodded at me. “I see you met Ryleigh.”

  “Mhmm. I told her it’d be wise to grab coffee before your grumpy ass woke up.”

  Cameron made a face at me. “He lies. I’m never grumpy.”

  “Then it doesn’t matter if I tell you I took the last of the creamer,” his roommate said.

  “What?” Cameron picked up the empty creamer bottle from the counter and shook it. “You’re a bastard.”

  Dark-headed guy poured the rest of his coffee into a travel mug and then wiggled his eyebrows. “Enjoy your day, you two. Nice to meet you, Ryleigh.”

  “Good to meet you too, uh…” I didn’t get a chance to ask who he was before he’d grabbed his keys and was out the front door.

  “Hunter,” Cameron said, filling in his name for me. “Feel free to call him asshole, though.” He tossed the empty bottle in the recycling bin before resting his elbows on the counter opposite me. He looked apologetic and a little embarrassed. “I am so, so sorry—”

  I waved him off. “No, it’s fine. Really. No need to apologize.”

  “It’s just…that’s never happened before.”

  “Well, it’s not like we’re talking about premature ejaculation.” And then I realized what the fuck I’d just said. “Uh…I mean…”

  Cameron stared at me for a moment before shaking his head and bursting into laughter. “No, that would’ve been much worse.”

  My face dropped to my hands and I moaned. “Sorry. Caffeine hasn’t kicked in yet.”

  “Nah, I like this lack of filter. But Ryleigh…” He looked at Hunter’s open bedroom door and then back at me. “Where did you sleep last night?”

  “AND THEN?”

  I tugged at the edge of my apron in an attempt to avoid the three pairs of eyes staring bug-eyed at me. “And then he walked me to my car.”

  “And then you…?” Shayne asked.

  “Went home,” I said.

  “Wait a minute, can we talk about the fact that he made you sleep on his couch?” Paige’s eyebrows were raised up to practically her hairline. “I’m sorry, but in what fucking universe is that acceptable? Why didn’t you call Quinn to pick you up?”

  “He didn’t make me, geez. He passed out and it was late, and I thought maybe…you know. Morning sex.”

  Shayne cocked an eyebrow. “And did that happen?”

  “Well, no. Hunter made me coffee, and then Cameron woke up and…that’s it.”

  “Wait,” Quinn interrupted. “You slept in an apartment with two guys and both of them had you sleeping on the couch? Jesus, Ryleigh, it’s against man-code for that to happen. Did you wear a chastity belt last night or something?”

  I groaned, my head falling into my hands. Of course the girls would give me a hard time. I’d been talking up tackling Cameron at the reunion for weeks, so my body wasn’t the only one feeling let down.

  Still, I was seriously regretting inviting them over for a powwow at my shop during our off hours.

  “I think I need another shot of vodka in my Feisty Ho-bag now.” Paige pushed her glass stemware toward me, and I grabbed a liquor bottle from behind the bar and tipped some into her glass.

  Boozy shakes. They were the bread and butter of Licked during the brunch and evening hours, and the main reason for the expansion next door. I glanced at the black tarp hanging over the doorway that led to the space I’d bought a few months ago and sighed. Construction was running behind, and it was too late to hire another company if I wanted to keep the launch date set.

  And I had to keep the date set.

  “So are you seeing him again?” Shayne asked, dunking her cherry through the layers of baklava bits and whipped cream on top of her Nibble My Nuts shake. “I will totally get involved if I need to.”

  No doubt she’d be successful. She basically ran one of the top matchmaking companies in the city, not that you’d know it from her degrading pay scale. Her boss was a fucking nightmare, but Shayne was convinced she had to pay her dues.

  “I don’t need your expert skills this time, but thank you. He’s got my number, so…we’ll see.”

  “You can’t just wait around for a guy to call,” she said.

  “I’m not waiting. I’ve got all that”—I gestured to the ugly tarp that hid the mess behind it—“to deal with, so I’m actually quite busy at the moment.”

  The three of them gave each other “the look.” You know, the one that said, We’ve got to help our poor little friend get laid so she doesn’t end up gorging on the ice cream and boozy shakes she makes and be relegated to spinsterhood.

  “Guys,” I said, placing my hands on the counter as I stood in front of them. “I’m not on my way to spinsterhood. I just have priorities.”

  “I’m sure you could squeeze Cameron Mathis in,” Quinn said with a wink. “Get it? Squeeze him in…”

  “More like blow off the dust, grab a key, unlock that shit, and pray there are no bats,” Paige agreed.

  Oh for fuck’s sake. “All right, no more booze for either of you.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I was done anyway. I’ve gotta jet.” Quinn stood up and grabbed her leather jacket, the one she wore no matter the weather, and slapped down a fifty-dollar bill. “Later, bitches.”

  Shayne’s mouth fell open. “Damn, Quinn. Off to work the corner of Hollywood and Las Palmas?”

  “I’m not taking that,” I called after Quinn, but she was out the door before it reached her. “One of these days, we’re gonna figure out what the hell it is she does.”

  “And where she gets all that bloody money to blow,” Shayne said.

  “I’m telling you. Russian spy. All that glossy black hair and badass attitude,” Paige said between sips of her shake.

  I shrugged. “Nah. Maybe she has a crazy inheritance.”

  Shayne shook her head. “It should be weird that we don’t know how she spends her days or what she does for a living, but—”

  “That’s Quinn,” we all chorused before bursting into laughter.

  The store phone rang then, and I ans
wered it with a smile. “Licked Ice Creamery & Booziery.”

  “May I speak with Ryleigh, please?” The deep voice that filtered through the phone had my body stopping and starting, like when you’re on a roller coaster and you get to the top of that first peak and it stops before barreling down at lightening speed and sending your stomach to your feet.

  Yeah. Like that.

  But the watchful eyes of my friends kept me from turning into the puddle of goo I knew I would’ve been had they not been there. I cleared my throat and stood up straighter. “Cameron Mathis. Stalking is illegal in all fifty states.”

  When Paige and Shayne’s eyes widened, I winked at them.

  A low chuckle sounded across the line. “Well, you don’t answer your cell, and I remembered you work at Licked, so—”

  “I own it,” I said with my chin up.

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Licked is my store. I own it, I don’t just work here.” I didn’t mean to sound defensive, but call it a pride thing; I wanted him to know I was a successful businesswoman. That I worked for myself.

  “Oh…wow, okay,” he said. “Maybe I could come check it out?”

  “You could…” A cheesy grin spread across my face, and I turned around before the girls could see it. “Maybe you could stop by this week.”

  “How’s Wednesday?”

  “Hmm. I could make that happen.”

  “Perfect. I’ll see you then.”

  “Bye, Cameron.”

  I hung up the phone and circled back to my friends.

  “Twisting him around your damn finger,” Paige said. “High five to that.”

  As I slapped her hand, my grin grew wider. “I wouldn’t go that far, but—”

  The expectant looks on their faces had me reconsidering.

  “Okay, yeah I am,” I said, picking up my own Slap My Ass and Call Me Sally boozy shake. “Cheers and sayonara, spinsterhood.”

  WEDNESDAY CAME AROUND, and I’m not ashamed to admit it took me two hours to pick out what I was going to wear that day. Two dozen brightly patterned swing and pencil dresses were scattered across my plush white comforter, making for a dizzying array of choices.

  My chestnut hair was already up in my signature updo, and my makeup was heavy on the volumizing mascara and pink gloss. Now all I needed was the perfect dress. Or maybe I should choose my shoes first?

  I switched on the light to the walk-in closet and pursed my lips as I ran my fingers across the choices. They stopped on a wine-colored pair of peep-toe heels, and I gingerly lifted them from the shelf and carried them to the bed.

  Oooh. They’d go perfectly with the rockabilly dress I’d bought last week. I threw on the ensemble and checked myself out in the full-length mirror on the back of the closet door.

  Hmm. Not bad. Not bad at all. A pair of funky earrings, and I was ready to go.

  Now, I know what you’re thinking, and it’s true. I’ve got pretty eclectic taste. Always have, probably always will. I was wearing vintage dresses even back in high school, which is most likely the reason for my oddball status. But it’s amazing how you learn to embrace your awkward as you get older.

  I headed down the stairs that led to Licked and flicked off the apartment lights as I went. Yes, I live upstairs from my shop. How convenient, right?

  Zoe, my morning manager, right-hand woman, and all-around saint, was already in the kitchen measuring vanilla and pouring it into a bucket.

  “Morning, Zoe,” I said before tying on an apron. Nodding at the mixture she was prepping, I said, “I do love a fresh batch of Cookie Dil-dough for breakfast.”

  A chuckle left her as she looked over her shoulder at me. Her lip piercing gleamed under the kitchen lights, and her bouffant ’do, shaved on the sides, was a fresh shade of royal blue. “You do know I only work here because the names of your creams makes it sound like I talk shit all day, right?”

  “You do talk shit all day. Names of my creams?” I shook my head. “By the way, dig the hair.”

  “And that’s the second reason I work here. When are you gonna let me give you some fuchsia highlights?”

  I took the batch of Up-the-Butt-er Pecan I’d made yesterday out of the freezer. “I’d rather leave the bright colors to my clothes. And shoes. And face. Pink hair would just be overkill.”

  “Good point.” Zoe popped the lid on the tub of the ice cream she’d just finished making and set it in the blast freezer before taking out another container and following me to the front of the store.

  The lights were already on, displaying my penchant for times past covering the space. The floors were black and white checkerboard tile, always gleaming from a fresh wax. The walls alternated between snowy white and rich magenta, and brightly colored frames showcased caricature portraits of not only the ice creams and boozy shakes featured at Licked, but also some of my favorite shining stars from the thirties and beyond, like Laurence Olivier and Rita Hayworth.

  I told you. It’s my thing.

  We set up the featured flavors for the day, and I pulled out all the toppings that had been set from the night before. The theme today was Whack-off Wednesday, and all the flavors would reflect a wacky combination.

  Yeah, this isn’t any ordinary ice cream shop, if that’s what you were thinking. Where would the fun be in that? Exactly. Though who doesn’t love ice cream no matter what form, amiright or amiright?

  “You’re all dressed up today,” Zoe said, eyeing my ensemble. Well, what she could see behind the frilly apron with “Get Licked” splashed across the front of it.

  “I’m wearing the same thing I always do,” I replied.

  “No…no, something’s different. Did you get laid?”

  Sweet…Jesus.

  IT WAS WELL past two when Cameron walked through Licked’s front door, wearing an immaculately pressed grey business suit that was somehow tailored to his towering frame. I thought again of the Ken dolls I used to play with when I was younger. They never stayed in those suits for long. I had been much too curious about what was underneath all those clothes and then horrified once I realized the answer was—not fucking much.

  Aaaand now I’m thinking of him naked. Good job, Ryleigh.

  A smile crossed Cameron’s lips as he said hello, and his gaze traveled around the shop before landing back on me. “This is amazing. If the food is half as good as the packaging, consider me a lifelong fan.”

  Oh, the responses I wanted to make to that. But I didn’t. I behaved.

  “Well, what are you in the mood for?” I asked.

  He licked his lips as his eyes scanned the chalkboard menu above me. “Crushed Nuts…Ground-Shaking Orgasm? Decisions, decisions.”

  “Tell me you’re not a double dipper.”

  “A what?”

  My lips tipped up on the side. “A double dipper. Means you’re bored with just one and you need the fun of two. Flavors, that is.”

  Cameron slowly shook his head as he kept his eyes on mine. “I can assure you. I’m more than happy with just one.”

  I could feel the heat creep up to my cheeks, but I played it cool. Or in my head I did. “That’s good to know. So what’ll it be?”

  “I think…” His eyes went back and forth between the two options. “I think I’d much prefer a Ground-Shaking Orgasm. I’m a sucker for those.”

  Approved, naughty boy.

  “Comin’ right up.” I smiled and scooped several dark chocolate balls of ice cream into the clear sundae bowl without bothering to ask how many he wanted. He could have the whoooole enchilada. Err, sundae.

  After piling it high with crumbles of crispy bacon and topping it with whipped cream and a cherry, I walked over to where he’d been watching me from one of the barstools at the counter, though I suppose his eyes could’ve been on the dessert in my hands. As I passed Zoe, she inclined her head toward Cameron and mouthed wow, which for her was huge—we didn’t bat for the same team.

  I slid the heavenly concoction his way, and his eyes grew large and hungr
y. “This might be the best thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” he said. Though proud of my creamery prowess, I admit I wanted him to say it was the second-best thing he’d ever seen in his life. You know. After my face. Or my ass.

  A huge spoonful went between his lips, and he groaned in pleasure.

  Hot damn, is that what he’d sound like in bed? Because hell.

  “And it is definitely the most delicious thing I’ve ever had in my mouth,” he said around a mouthful of chocolate cream, and I couldn’t help but think, So far…

  That’s not too pretentious at all, right?

  “I’m glad you like it.” I glanced at the register to see Zoe taking care of the customers who’d just walked in and then focused my attention back on Cameron.

  He’d already shoveled in a few more spoonfuls, and I had to laugh at his enthusiasm. “Do they not let you out of the office for lunch?”

  “No. I meant to come by earlier, but we were slammed. They’re trying to get me to fly to Hong Kong to meet with investors there, and—” He stopped himself. “Sorry, that’s boring stuff.”

  “It’s not boring if it’s something you love. Um…what is it you do again?”

  Cameron put down the spoon and laughed. “I work for my father’s production company.”

  “Oh wow. You know, everyone always thought you’d go into the NFL or something.”

  “Nah. I mean, football was fine for school and stuff, but I’ve always been interested in the behind the scenes of the movie business. I never really thought about doing anything else.”

  “I had no idea. And you go on exotic business trips overseas.”

  “My trips usually entail finding backers for our projects and talking them into giving us millions of dollars from their own pockets. So it’s not that exotic, I promise. But…yeah.” He shrugged. “I love it. If you cater, maybe we could get you to do our next company event.”

  “It’s a little messy to go on the road,” I said, gesturing to his melting ice cream. “But you’re more than welcome to have something here any time you want.”