by Hughes, Maya
My hands shook seeing my name on the top of the legal document next to ‘Co-Owner’.
“The deposit will need to be made with the city to stop the auction proceedings. I’ll file the paperwork today, and if you get me the money, Bread & Butter will be completely in the clear by the end of the week.”
“I can get it from the bank on Thursday.”
“Are you sure you want to do this, kid?” Syd’s fingers wrapped around my forearm. Her warmth and generosity had kept me and my family afloat, and I didn’t hesitate with my answer.
“I’m totally sure, Syd.”
Walking the short blocks back to Emmett’s, I smiled up at the shining summer sun. Staying at his place would be so convenient, but what would we do when he went back to LA? It was on the list. First, figure out Bread & Butter. Next, figure out how to handle being 3000 miles away from him while he crisscrossed North America.
* * *
I wiped a stray hair off my forehead with the oven mitt as I checked on the pans in the oven. The appliances Emmett had in his kitchen were a baker’s dream, including the top-of-the-line blast freezer and tons of gadgets that all seemed completely untouched even though he’d owned the place for a while.
Testing the spring of the cake with my fingers, I grabbed the tray and slid the pans out of the oven, placing them on the cooling rack beside the cookies and cupcakes I’d already made. With my apron covered in flour, I slid another tray of batter into the oven. I couldn’t decorate as well as Max, she was the Van Gough of buttercream and fondant, but I sure as hell made everything tasty.
“So, let’s hear all about it.” Mak’s voice came from my phone on the counter.
“My first meeting with Syd went well, but I need to show her I didn’t do this only to bail her out. I have a few new things I want to try, but this is going to be a collaboration. I hope she likes them.” I chewed on my bottom lip. Please let her like them.
“How could she not? If they are the slightest bit like the food you were making for everyone while you were here, she’d be insane to not like them.”
“We need you back!” Liv wailed in the background.
“I take it the cooking hasn’t been going well?”
“It’s been going okay, but no one gets up super early like you. Usually everyone stumbles down the stairs midmorning and settles for cereal.”
“It’s not the same, Avery. We miss you already,” Kara chimed in.
I’d forgotten how good it felt to be around people my age, to be with friends, having fun.
“I miss you guys too. We’ll try to come down Sunday night.”
I slid a toothpick into the center of one of the pans. I’d never had the time, space, and unlimited supply of ingredients to test out new things on this scale. Emmett had left before I came back from B&B, and after I napped, the pristine kitchen had whispered sweet nothings in my ear about coming over and breaking the place in.
“I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but Percy got towed today.”
“What?” I slammed the oven shut. “How?”
“I have a feeling a certain totally-into-you guy had something to do with it.”
I squeezed the bridge of my nose. “If he junked Percy, I’m pouring piping hot batter down his swimming trunks.”
“I don’t think it was that. The mechanic said something about improvements.”
Resting my elbows on the counter, I stared out Emmett’s floor-to-ceiling windows. The breathtaking view of the Philly skyline filled the space like a living painting. William Penn sat atop City Hall and all the other high-rises around it, and the light poured over everything in the apartment, making it look even more sleek and shiny than when we’d first gotten there.
“He’s impossible sometimes. I keep telling him I don’t need him to do this stuff for me.”
“Maybe he likes to do it because it makes him happy,” Mak offered. “Okay, we’re heading out for a kayak trip. Can’t wait for you to be back, and I’m glad things are going well with Emmett. Talk later.”
I ended the call and checked on everything in the oven and freezers. His place was so unlike what I would have expected. The white leather couches and carpet screamed cleaning nightmare to me. White bookshelves lined one wall and were filled with framed pictures of Emmett and the rest of the Kings along with some of his current team. There weren’t any with any women in them. I’d held my breath, ready for that gut punch when I saw one, but there weren’t any to be found. There were also none of his parents, and I wondered how recently they’d come back into his life.
The dining room table was glass, and the chairs were leather and brushed metal. It was just as cold as his house growing up had been. I’d always thought his childhood house had been a reflection of his parents’ tastes, not his, and it was a little disappointing that he’d followed in their footsteps aesthetically. Other than the pictures, there wasn’t much to indicate who lived in the apartment, or that anyone lived there at all.
How would it have looked if we lived there together? Pictures of our travels? Hikes? Kids?
I splayed a hand over my stomach at that hollow feeling inside. So many possibilities gone, so many possible futures.
A timer dinged, and I took out another tray of chocolate espresso cupcakes. So far I’d made three dozen cookies, two cakes, and three dozen cupcakes. The blast freezer was like a drug, because I could quickly chill everything down for decorating—my second favorite part—while the next batch cooked.
Using powdered sugar and gum paste, I turned up the music and got to work on my summer flowers like Max showed me. Each leaf and petal was cut out and pressed together to make a beautiful flower most people hated eating, but had me feeling wonderful. They only looked mildly wilted. I needed Max to give me another lesson. In the zone, I rolled out enough fondant to blanket the entire counter.
When the door flew open, I jumped and looked up at Emmett as he entered then stopped abruptly just inside the doorway. His eyes whipped to mine, as wide as saucers.
“Smells like Christmas exploded in here.”
His big grin made me want to let out a dopey laugh, the kind a cartoon character does when they’re in love. I snapped up straight and wiped my hands on my apron, like wiping that thought away was even possible.
I glanced behind me at the mountain of chocolate and vanilla, cookies, and calories then nodded.
“You had all the ingredients and the itch hit me, so I figured I’d try some new stuff out to take to Syd.”
“You baking in my house…” He put down his messenger bag and some papers on the table in the entryway.
“Me baking in your house…” I shifted from foot to foot as he stared at me, my pulse speeding up with each step he took forward. The thin line of tension between us grew thicker until it was so heavy I could barely breathe.
“How was your meeting?”
“Fine. The foundation just got another check written out to them. It will fund a lot of programs.”
“I still can’t believe you give so much away.”
“It’s not like I don’t have enough.” He swiped a cookie off the baking tray and tossed it from hand to hand before taking a bite.
“But all of it? What if something went wrong? You might need that money.”
“It’s only my hockey salary. I’ve still got my trust, which I get my yearly money from, and my birthday’s in a couple weeks so I’ll get another chunk. One person can only spend so much money before it becomes excessive.”
I glanced around his palatial apartment.
The tips of his ears reddened. “I didn’t say I was a saint.” He pulled me toward him, his hands wrapped around my waist.
“Only you could say ‘only your hockey salary’. That’s an amazing thing you’re doing. I’m proud of you.” I was. He didn’t have to do any of it. If someone like him had given to Alyson and me what he donated to schools, it would have made my life a hell of a lot easier. Backpacks filled with meals, laundry facilities, afterschool p
rograms that offered extra tutoring and assistance—he was doing a hell of a lot of good.
When I’d read through the non-profit proposals, it had brought tears to my eyes. I’d kept a lot from him, but it was like deep down he knew some of the struggles I’d tried to hide. Maybe unconsciously he’d known more than I thought. He’d found a way to help other kids, and my heart did a happy dance in my chest.
27
Emmett
“And sign here.” Franklin, Randolph’s colleague in the Philadelphia office, pointed to the final tabbed ‘SIGN HERE’ flag in the stack of documents on his desk.
“You are now the proud sponsor of the budgets of about twelve organizations throughout Philadelphia and LA. Congrats.” He shook my hand, pumping it up and down. He was one of the good ones, and I was glad I’d sent Avery to him for the B&B deal.
“How did the meeting go with Avery?”
“You know I can’t talk about another client’s work with you.” His smile was still firmly in place. “Everything went well. It’s refreshing to work on things like that—no mergers, no acquisitions, just people building new things for themselves and their communities.”
“I’m glad it went well.”
“I’m supposed to have my trust meeting with my parents and Harold in a few weeks.”
The flash of displeasure on Franklin’s face made me laugh. “What? Not your favorite person?”
“Let’s just say we went to law school together and I’d sooner trust a pack of ravenous hyenas with a bag of raw meat than him with my money, but most clients are quite satisfied.” Flipping through the papers, he made sure everything was in order. “Good seeing you, Emmett. Randolph is always singing your praises at our partner meetings. It’s good to meet you in the flesh.”
“Good to finally meet you too. Once I turn twenty-five in two years, I’ll have full access to my trust. I’m starting to make plans for moving back to the East Coast, and it would be great to have someone else on my team I can count on for that. My friend Colm is also interested in giving more as well.”
“If you give me his information, I can have everything set up for him. Randolph and I can get everyone squared away.”
“Perfect.” I left Franklin’s office and stepped out onto the bustling Philadelphia street, thinking maybe I should sell the penthouse. I could start over somewhere new with Avery, no old memories haunting the place for me, maybe something with some more vibrancy or humanity, like the guys said. It hadn’t been until Avery and I had stepped over the threshold together that I’d seen my apartment through new eyes. It was as cold and impersonal as my parents’ house, something I’d sworn I wouldn’t be.
My phone vibrated in my pocket. “Hi, Mom.”
“Hi, Emmett. We heard you were at Stevenson & Decker today.”
“Yes, I was finishing up my foundation giving.”
“Always so nice of you,” Dad chimed in. “Anything else?”
“Hey, Dad, I didn’t know you were there. No, nothing else. Just finalizing everything and impoverishing myself until my birthday.” I laughed and looked both ways before crossing the street. Avery would have loved the look of my bank account right then. I’d finalized the paperwork to sign over my entire pro salary to charitable causes. The team was eating it up and would be running articles about it leading up to the new season: Do-gooder pro athlete plays entire season for only $1.
“We wanted to see you while you’re in the city. We’d love to see you and Avery.”
I considered that maybe I shouldn’t have told them we were coming back to Center City.
“That would be nice, Mom. I’m sure we could figure something out, but we’re going back down to the shore for the Fourth of July, so maybe after that.”
“Okay, we’ll see you soon.” My dad’s voice sounded tight.
I stared at the phone for a second while standing outside my building. The weirdness factor was off the charts with those two, but I had nothing to compare it to. Everyone else always groaned about how much their parents were on them to call every week, asking about who they were dating and such, so I decided to just chalk it up to standard parent stuff.
My smile widened with each step closer to my apartment. Since I’d stepped out the door after Avery left, this was the moment I’d looked forward to—coming back to her.
The smell hit me the second I stepped off the elevator. It was the same comforting, mouthwatering one that had wrapped me up so tightly in her back at the beach house and at my house in high school, like she knew the specific recipe to get me to fall so hard for her my knees sported bruises that could never be erased. If I hadn’t been on the hockey team back in high school, someone would have had to wheel me through the halls of Rittenhouse Prep in a wheelbarrow.
Opening the door, I was overtaken by the full force of her culinary experimentations. It was like a switch snapped and the outside world melted away. She was there and so beautiful, all covered in flour. I’d never get tired of being her taste tester.
Her excitement about trying out new recipes for Syd was infectious. I didn’t think there’d ever been anything in my life I was as enthusiastic about as she was about baking, other than her. When I sat on a stool in the kitchen, it felt like I’d always thought it would, like a kitchen was supposed to—like a house was supposed to. It wasn’t a museum or a monument to the perfect statement pieces to impress whoever stopped by, but a place where people lived, laughed, and loved—and ate.
Her eyes were wide like she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. From the smell of it, she’d been baking enough to fill an entire warehouse of cookie jars.
I couldn’t keep my eyes off her and how the light dusting of flour made her look like an angel come to life. Her hair was held back by a gingham red and white bandana, her tank top was fitted, and the curve of her breasts called out to me from above the half-apron wrapped around her waist. She looked so much like she had before, and it almost hurt to see. A dull ache hit me right in the center of my chest, but I pushed it away.
I set down my bag and the papers from my visit to the lawyer’s office as she wiped her hands on a kitchen towel and brushed back some of the light brown wisps that had escaped her bandana. It was all too much, so sweet and unassuming, so real it made me question everything about myself and the life I was living.
I told her about my meeting with Franklin. The happiness I felt at her telling me how proud she was of me made every cent I gave even more worthwhile.
Lifting the spatula, I swirled it around the dark mixture in a nearby bowl.
“Is this icing?”
“Yeah. It’s triple chocolate. I was going to use it on the cupcakes.”
“I think I have a better idea.”
The glass bowl rumbled across the counter as I dragged it closer. Each scrape of glass on granite fanned the spark between us into something more.
“What kind of idea?” She wiped her hands on the towel and dropped it onto the counter.
“I think you’ll like this one.”
“Oh really?” Her lips curled up into a playful smile.
Dipping my finger into the bowl, I dragged the rich substance across my tongue. Its flavor was second to only one other. “It’s really good, but there’s one problem.”
She pressed her palms into the counter. “Too rich? Not enough sugar?”
I stared down into the icing, stirring it with the wooden spoon. Taking her hand, I slid mine to her wrist. Her pulse pounded against my fingers. I dipped one of hers into the icing and slowly drew it into my lips.
My cock thickened in my pants, and I cursed the distance between us. It tasted even better off her.
“So what’s wrong?” Her words came out choppy.
“I’m not inside you yet.” I stared into her eyes and they widened.
Quicker than she could react, I grabbed her around the waist and set her down on the counter beside the bowl. With one swift yank, her tank top came down, bra and all. Her breasts tumbled out at jus
t the right height, and both toffee-colored nipples pebbled in the cool air.
She braced her hands on the edge of the counter, sucking in a sharp breath as I pressed myself between her spread legs. Taking the spoon out of the bowl, I ran it along her collarbone and trailed it down to her stiff peaks, giving myself a delicious trail to follow. I savored the flavor of her mouthwatering body right along with the chocolate treat I could have eaten all day.
Her fingers dug into my hair, her nails raking against my scalp. I kissed and sucked my way up her body to her neck. The sweet moans from her lips were music to my ears and I drank them down, swallowing each sound.
“I missed you.” I bit the base of her neck and she squeezed her thighs tight around me.
I was home.
* * *
Rolling over and watching her naked body disappear behind the bathroom door, I lay back in bed and stared up at the ceiling. Three minutes, that was all I needed. Three minutes to recover and I was back in there.
The patter of water came from behind the door. I would definitely join her in there. Throwing off the sheets, I swung my feet over the edge of the bed. My phone buzzed on the nightstand.
Randolph: Glad things went well with Franklin. Everything is finalized for the foundation. Letters are already rolling in from the grateful schools and organizations.
Me: Stop working and get back to your family!
I stood and spotted Avery’s bag in the chair beside the door. A legal folio poked out of the top, and I flipped through the pages, which had Avery’s name listed at the top. It was something she’d been preparing for since I’d known her, and pride swelled in my chest. There wasn’t anything she couldn’t do.
Fourth of July was only a few days away. The party had tapped out the last of my checking account, but I could live on credit for a few weeks until my birthday. That was how I’d handled things since I got money from my trust: plan out my giving and spend what I didn’t already have designated somewhere else. It made me feel less shitty about the hand I’d been dealt being born into my family.