Sugar Rush (Friend-Zoned 3)

Max

I wish I could let it go. But I can’t. As I sit behind my desk, I think hard before making a decision, reaching into my pocket¸ and pulling out my cell phone. I dial the number. It rings only a moment before someone answers. “Good morning, Icing on the Cake Bakery. How can I help you?”

I smile. “Verna. How’re you doing? It’s Max.”

Her smile can be heard from the other end. “Max, sweetie, I’m good. How are you?”

“I’m great. Listen, I need you to do me a favor.”

She doesn’t need time to think about this. “Anything for you. What do you need?”

A smile tilts my lips.

I never said I wouldn’t fight dirty.

***

Helena

The wrapper peels away easily, unveiling the vanilla crème cupcake. I salivate and say a hushed, “Oh God. I need you.” I propel it into my mouth and chew, shaking my head in ultimate satisfaction. “Sweet Jesus, that’s good.” Standing from my position at the breakfast bar, I walk over to the trash to dump the empty wrapper and now-empty sample box.

I ate eight cupcakes.

I ate eight cupcakes in one day.

Am I ashamed of myself? Nope. Not even a little.

This is one of the reasons Nat bought me a baby pink tee with The Cupcakeinator written across the front. It was my workout tee for a long time. It has since been retired to be one of my bedtime tees.

I sit on the sofa, where Tedwood sleeps rolled up into a little fuzzy ball. I’ve come to find that when he’s sleeping, he doesn’t mind being cuddled. Lowering my face to his head, I nuzzle him with my nose. His purring exaggerates and I smile. I reach down to slide on my sneakers when someone knocks at the door.

Ted and I both look up at the door, then at each other. I mutter under my breath, “I wonder who that could be.” When I move to pat Ted on the rump, he hisses. And I mock-cower. “Ooooh, sorry, your highness. I forgot; you’re awake and that shit doesn’t fly.” I stand and walk over to the door, still talking to my cat. “God forbid someone would show you some love.” I throw my hands in the air and exclaim, “The absolute horror!”

I chuckle and answer the door. My lips thin. “What?”

Ash stands in the doorway, leaning on the frame, looking freshly showered. “C’mon. I’m taking you to work.”

I roll my eyes. “No. You aren’t. Don’t you think you’ve caused enough trouble?”

His jaw tics and he swallows hard. He speaks through gritted teeth. “I would really like to take you to work, Helena.”

My arms lift to cross over my chest. “Why?”

Avoiding my eyes, he scratches his chin and utters a bored, “So I can apologize to your asshole boss.”

My eyes narrow at him. “Nat put you up to this, didn’t she?”

He sighs in exasperation. “You want me to apologize to the douchebag or not?”

My head tilts slightly. I consider this. I walk over to the breakfast bar to grab my purse, work ID, and cell phone. I shove them in my pockets and walk past Ash through th

e open door. “Let’s go.”

“Fuck,” he mutters as he follows behind me.

Just as we enter the center, Ash opens his mouth. But I’m quicker than he is. I raise my hand, palm up, and shake my head slowly. “Nuh uh. Don’t you say a damn thing to me. I’m still pissed at you. You save your words, buddy. You save ‘em for James.”

He follows me down to reception, where I make him sign in and wear a stupid-looking visitor’s badge. He pulls at his shirt and grumbles, “Woman, if I didn’t love you…”