Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 133(@200wpm)___ 107(@250wpm)___ 89(@300wpm)
I shove a plate towards him, gesturing for him to pile it up with whatever he wants. His eyes appraise the spread, then me, and he nods once in silent thanks. I’m grateful he doesn’t speak because I’m not sure I can answer.
The air in here feels charged with unresolved tension, and the place between my legs is still aching with unmet need. Need I’ve never experienced so viscerally before. I doubt my own clumsy touch will fix it. No, my body craves him no matter how wrong it might be.
I shove my food down, barely tasting the waffles, my mind churning. There’s ten minutes till I have to leave for my volunteer shift, and I take my last bite before wrapping up what little leftovers there are. Trey ate three times as much as I did, which made sense given how giant he is.
I grab the cupcakes I made yesterday from the fridge, but before I even realize what’s happening, Trey plucks the container from my hand.
“What are you doing?” I ask, frowning.
“I’ll carry them for you,” he says simply, which does absolutely nothing to lessen my confusion.
“I … uh … I’m going to the soup kitchen,” I remind him, tilting my head back to find him nodding like he knows that already, which he does. I told him yesterday after all. Still doesn’t explain why he won’t let me take the cupcakes. “I need to take them with me. They’re a treat to put in the meal packages.”
Trey nods again. “Yes.”
Seriously, dude? Throw me a bone here. I inhale slowly, trying to ignore how badly I want him in order to communicate clearly. “So, why are you carrying them?”
Trey raises a brow, and a hint of a smirk makes his lips tilt at the sides. There’s something like playfulness in his blue-gray gaze, the same expression I caught hints of during our Monopoly session yesterday, so unlike his usual stoic, stony expression. I want to see more of that, more of the teasing, fun, soft side of him that I doubt he shows much. I want to be the one who gets that from him, the caring, kind, playful Trey as well as the protective, badass, muscle-man Trey.
I want all of him. Whatever he has to give, I want to take. I realize I want to give him all of me too. I want to give him things I’ve never given anybody else before in my life.
“I’m coming with you,” he says softly, his tone something between a whisper and a rumble, dark but soft at the same time. Sparks shoot down my skin as though he’s whispering in my ear, but all he’s doing is standing in front of me holding some cupcakes like a damn gentleman.
“Oh,” I say like an idiot. “You want to come volunteering with me?”
I nearly faint when he answers with no hesitation. “I want to be wherever you are, cupcake.”
5
TREY
Talia greets everyone busying about the cramped community kitchen by name.
I lose track after the third, not particularly caring if the short redhead Talia’s chatting with is called Jen or Jasmine. The only name that matters, the only damn person that matters, is Talia. I’m a silent shadow as she leads me through the main kitchen space, all shiny silver surfaces and the smell of cheap floor cleaner filling the air. We drop our jackets off in a store cupboard, and Talia quickly points out the small, dark corridor that leads to the bathrooms and extra supply cupboard before shoving an apron at me with a grin.
I balance the cupcake container in one hand, grabbing the apron with the other so it doesn’t fall to the floor.
“I don’t need this,” I tell her calmly as we enter the kitchen again. The smell of cooking onions is beginning to drown out the chemical lemon scent of the cleaner.
Talia’s smile is nothing short of mischievous. I can’t help but love the way her eyes sparkle with it. “If you’re going to insist on being here, you can make yourself useful and help me wash the dishes.”
She ties her own apron around her waist before snatching the cupcakes from me and flouncing off to store them in one of the giant fridges.
I stare after her for a minute, stunned by just how much personality is stored in her short frame. She’s mesmerizing, and before I make the conscious decision to do it, I’m following her orders and tying the stupid apron around my waist.
Talia quickly shows me where everything is and barely muffles her laugh when I reluctantly tug on a pair of yellow gloves. She looks ridiculously cute in the apron and glove combo, while I’ve never felt more ridiculous. Still, I keep my complaints to myself and commit to washing dishes by her side, splitting my focus between the sponges and soapy water and watching Talia out of the corner of my eye.