by Kelsie Rae
Tony never stops in unless it’s for an early coffee, and it’s way past his usual schedule which means I’m clueless as to who it might be.
“Ooo-kay.” I drag out the word before walking to the door that leads to the front of the shop. Hesitantly, I peek around the door and find Rhett with a stranger by his side.
My breath catches at the sight. Quickly, I school my features. “Hey! Back for seconds?” I tease while trying to remind myself that he’s just another customer, and I treat all of my shoppers like this.
“Yeah, actually. I was generous today and gave a piece of my cronut to Nathan.” He tilts his head in the stranger’s direction. “He wanted to meet my dealer. Think you could hook him up?” Rhett winks playfully at me, and my heart skips a beat.
Damn heart.
I giggle, loving our inside joke. “Nice to meet you, Nathan. Unfortunately, I’m all out of that particular fix, but I can get you a fresh éclair. Or you’re welcome to take a peek at the display and see if you find anything else you want to try. The Napoleon is pretty amazing, too.”
Nathan smiles wickedly before perusing his options.
This one’s trouble.
I try to keep my focus on him, but Rhett’s gaze keeps distracting me. I can practically feel it brush against the side of my face, traveling all the way to my toes. We might both agree we’re not cheaters, and that nothing will ever happen between us, but chemistry is chemistry. And we have it in spades.
“I think I’ll try those éclairs, if that’s all right with you?” Nathan finally speaks up after what feels like an eternity, but his eyes aren’t on me. They’re glued to Sophie, who’s been watching him not so subtly from the doorway. It’s obvious she’s eavesdropping on the whole conversation.
“I’ll be right back.” I shake off Rhett’s staring and head to the kitchen while completely ignoring the heated looks bouncing between Rhett’s friend and my newest employee. Natalie and Sophie are acting like they’re witnessing a real life unicorn in the shop instead of a couple of hot guys.
Yes, I’ll admit it. They’re hot.
Damn it.
“Napkins are over there,” I tease the girls as I glide past the two peeping toms and into the back room to grab the éclairs. “Make sure to wipe the drool from your mouths before you go back out there.”
I grab two pastries and take them to the register.
“The first hit is on the house. You’ll be back.”
Nathan takes the bag, and Rhett laughs before handing me another twenty, but I firmly refuse it.
“Nope. This one’s on me,” I reiterate.
“Come on. At least let me pay for mine.” His brows lift, and the side of his mouth tilts in the most delicious way possible, but I stand firm.
“Nope,” I repeat. “You just brought me a lifelong addict, my friend. A free éclair is the least I can do.”
His side smile transforms into a full-on grin before he places the bill into the tip jar near the register.
“Gotta keep my dealer in business,” he teases just like last time before leaving me with butterflies and a twenty that I’ll give to my newest employees.
As soon as the door slides closed, squealing erupts.
“Oh my gosh! Please tell me he has a brother,” Natalie swoons.
“Nope, I want Nathan. Did you see his muscles underneath that suit? And that arrogant smirk?” Sophie quips before turning to Natalie. “Sorry, Noogie. You can’t have a brother, unless it’s my brother.”
I hold my hands in surrender to their barrage of questions. “Hold up. Who’s brother?”
“Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome. Does he have a brother?” Nat repeats.
By her description, I assume she means Rhett. “Rhett? I have no idea. Why?”
“You don’t know if your boyfriend has a brother? And you’ve been together for as long as you can remember? Girl, what kind of relationship are you in?” Her brow quirks.
“He isn’t my boyfriend,” I correct.
“Uh . . . are you sure?” Both girls are looking at me like I’m the biggest idiot on the planet.
I roll my eyes. “Pretty sure I’d know if he was my boyfriend or not. Why do you ask?”
“‘Cause he could not take his eyes off you,” Natalie answers bluntly.
“And the sexual tension going on between you guys was so thick, even I contemplated taking a cold shower after he left,” Sophie adds. Her expression is one of pure intrigue, as if I’m her own personal reality television series.
I groan.
“Get back to work you two.”
“Uh-uh. No deal. You gotta give us a little something,” Nat continues, completely ignoring my request.
I sigh. “What do you want to know?”
“Who. Is. He?” They ask together as they swarm me from both sides. I’ve changed my mind. I’ve decided they need to become cops because I’m about to crack under their interrogation technique.
I scrunch my face, trying to hold my tongue, but it doesn’t work.
“Fine. His name is Rhett, he’s my new neighbor, and he’s really nice. He is not my boyfriend.” I make sure to emphasize the last sentence. “But he is a really nice guy.”
“You said that already,” Natalie points out, a shit-eating grin plastered on her face.
“So who’s your boyfriend? And is he as hot as Rhett? ’Cause if not, you need to dump that boy and get on the Rhett Train before it leaves the station.” Sophie’s eyes are staring off into the distance dreamily, and I have a feeling her thoughts are far from PG rated.
I laugh at the two of them. “You’re both fired.” That snaps them out of it and has both of them gaping at me as I continue. “My boyfriend’s name is Tony by the way, and he’s really good-looking too.” I don’t know why I’m defending him since he’s in the doghouse right now, but I guess that’s what a loyal girlfriend does.
“Good for you, ’cause if I had a guy like that looking at me the way he was looking at you . . . .” Natalie takes a page from Sophie’s book, fanning herself dramatically and throwing all three of us into a fit of giggles.
“You guys are ridiculous. Now back to work!”
We spend the rest of the afternoon, and well into the evening, baking, laughing, and getting to know each other like long-lost friends. Which I guess . . . we kind of are.
Chapter 5
Rhett
It’s been a month since I moved, and I’m finally establishing a routine. Wake up, get ready, grab breakfast at Get Baked, go to work, run through Central Park, come home, and go to bed. On occasion, drinks with buddies is thrown somewhere in the mix, but that’s about it.
I wasn’t kidding when I said Indie was my dealer. Unfortunately, her baked goods aren’t the only thing I’m addicted to. Her innocent smiles, her indigo eyes, her tiny earlobes. Yes, even her ears are adorable.
I still haven’t met the boyfriend. Part of me wants to go bang on the door until he opens up, so I can make sure their relationship is real. So I can see for myself that she’s off the market. That she’s untouchable. That I can’t have her.
I wasn’t lying when I said I wasn’t a cheater. My dad cheated on my mom when I was twelve years old, and it tore our family apart. I know Indie isn’t married, but that doesn’t matter. Cheating is cheating. Plain and simple.
If she was single, it would make this entire situation so much easier. I feel like I’m dealing with the whole thing with my hands tied behind my back. It’s driving me insane.
My phone rings as I’m walking home from a long day at work, and I see my mom’s name flash across the screen.
“Hey, Mom.” I grin.
“Hey, baby. How are you doing?”
“I’m good. Just heading home. How’s work going? Any kids puke on you today?”
My mom is a pediatric dental assistant which means she deals with kids all day. You’d be surprised at how many of them have shitty gag reflexes.
She laughs good-naturedly. “Not today, thank goodness. How are y
ou settling into the Big Apple?”
I shrug even though she can’t see me. “Not bad. I have a new company I’m handling at work, and we’re hoping to set up a potential investor this week.”
“That’s good, baby.”
“Speaking of babies, how’s Laney?” She’s my baby sister and will be graduating from high school this year. Needless to say, she was quite the surprise for my parents.
I can hear the smile in my mom’s voice. “She’s good. But you know how much she hates when you call her a baby.”
I chuckle. “To be fair, you still call me baby too.”
“Yes, but I do it out of affection. You do it to get a rise out of her,” my mom argues.
“Touché. Is she dating anyone? You know I’m always willing to drop in and throw down a few brotherly threats, right?”
My mom laughs lightly before answering my question. “Nothing serious, don’t you worry. And how’s my Nathan?” my mom probes, changing the subject.
Nathan and I met in college and have been best friends ever since. While we haven’t always lived close, Nathan’s family is a bunch of selfish idiots, so my mom kind of adopted him.
“He’s good.” I let the topic of Laney rest until another day.
“Is he dating anyone yet?” My mom continues her meddling, and I laugh once more.
“Not really . . . unless you consider his weekly hookups with random women,” I jest.
She gasps, and I can almost picture her shivering in disgust. “Young man, I do not need to know about his extracurricular activities!” she admonishes. Booming laughter erupts from my gut.
If only she knew.
“Speaking of . . . anyone you want to tell me about? You gonna make me a grandma?”
“Nah. Not anytime soon, anyway.”
“That’s it? That’s all you’re gonna give me?”
I snort. “Sorry, Mom. No babies on the way. No girl prospects, either.”
“But what about that neighbor girl you mentioned a while back?”
I palm the back of my neck, squeezing it in frustration. “Oh, yeah. Her.”
She scoffs. “Yes, her. How’s that going?”
“She has a boyfriend,” I tell her bluntly. In my mom’s defense, she and I talked about Indie before I found out about the infamous boyfriend.
“Ah. Yes. Well, that’s a shame, baby. I’m sure you’ll find someone soon, and you’ll give me lots of grandbabies, okay?”
That is highly unlikely to happen, but I’ve never been one to crush dreams so I say, “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Good boy. Now tell me more about this investor of yours.”
So I do. I give her all the details, and she listens to every word, making me love her even more for it.
By the time I get home, I’m smiling from ear to ear, feeling refreshed from my conversation with Mom.
I loosen my tie as I enter my apartment building and spot Indie. She’s standing by the wall that’s covered in tiny mailboxes. Her long, toned legs are on full display in a pair of running shorts, and I have to rub my hand over my face in frustration to stop myself from checking her out.
My keys jingle as I sidle up next to her, unlocking my mailbox.
“Hey, you,” she says, sending a soft smile my way.
“Hey.” I grab a small stack of mail and begin sorting it right then and there.
Indie spots a food magazine in my pile and slips it from my hands.
“Sorry, but I assumed you wouldn’t have a subscription to The Foodie Magazine.”
I smirk. “I think you’d be right about that.”
Her nose scrunches in the most adorable way possible as she adds, “I’m always right.”
Chuckling, I decide to tease her a little. “Always, huh?”
“Mm-hmm.” She nods, humming her confirmation.
My gaze narrows in silent challenge. “All right then. Chocolate or vanilla?”
“Depends on the recipe,” she counters, leaning her shoulder against the wall and giving me her full attention.
“Okay . . . basketball or football?”
She laughs. “Uh . . . basketball?”
I quirk my brow at her wavering voice. “You sure about that?”
“Well . . . .” She lets out a huff. “There isn’t exactly a right or wrong answer. It’s an opinion, so does it really prove anything?”
“It proves whether you think you’re always right or not. The fact that you admit there are other possible answers proves to me that you are, indeed, always correct. Congratulations. Tell your boyfriend I’m sorry.”
“And why would you be sorry for my boyfriend, exactly?” She shifts, planting both hands on her hips.
I lean forward. “Because it can’t be easy dating someone who’s always right. Where’s the fun in that?”
She gasps, pretending to be offended. “Hey! I’m not that bad!”
I laugh because I just can’t help it. “You’re right, sunshine. You’re not bad at all.” When I turn to head to the elevator, I find myself grinning from ear to ear.
“Not bad at all,” I mumble under my breath.
Chapter 6
Indie
It feels nice talking with Rhett . . . easy. I can’t help but compare my conversations with him versus Tony, and they’re a night and day difference. Only one of those conversations leaves me with a giant grin for hours afterward.
I hop into the shower and rinse off before deciding to grab some takeout. I slip into a black tank top and match it with some cut-off jeans.
My face is fresh and clean when I head to the door of our apartment and nearly run into Tony’s muscular chest at the entrance.
I squeak in surprise, jumping about a mile into the air while feeling like I just got caught doing something sneaky. Even though I wasn’t.
“Hey.” He smiles. “Going somewhere?”
Apparently, we’re not in a fight anymore. Shocker. It’s just one more unresolved tizzy fit being swept under a very lumpy rug.
I hesitate for the briefest of seconds before remembering where I was going. “Yeah, actually. I was going to grab some dinner.” I hesitate before adding, “Did you want to come?”
He doesn’t respond right away. Instead, Tony sets his briefcase next to the front door then squeezes the back of his neck, debating whether or not he should go.
It isn’t rocket science!
I can already feel the dismissal rolling off him before he even speaks. “I have some really important work to catch up on. Why don’t you bring me something home?”
Releasing a deep breath that I didn’t even know I was holding, I respond. “I think it’d be good for us to spend a little time together, Tony. When was the last time we sat down and actually had a conversation? When was the last time we actually ate a meal at the same table? Isn’t that kind of pathetic? That it’s been so long, we can’t even remember when the last time was?” I’m a little surprised that I’ve voiced my concerns to him when I’ve always been one to hide my true feelings, arguing that it isn’t worth the effort. But if a relationship isn’t worth the effort then why the hell am I in one?
“I can’t go. I’m sorry. But go. Have fun. I’ll see you when you get home.”
He walks past me without so much as a kiss goodbye and slips his cell from his suit pocket. His fingers are already flying across the screen faster than I can say, “See ya later.”
“I don’t get it,” I say to his retreating form. “You come home from work early today just so that you can catch up on more work?” Sarcasm oozes from every word.
Tony doesn’t even bother turning around. “Look, I don’t have time for this right now. Go have fun. We’ll talk later.” And with that, he disappears down the hall and into the bedroom, leaving me alone by the front door.
I don’t know why, but his disregard nearly brings me to my knees. Our relationship is crumbling before my eyes, and I don’t know how to fix it.
Scratch that. Our relationship is already rubble beneath
my sneakers, and I’m not sure if it can be fixed.
It’s only dinner. That’s it. And it isn’t that big of a deal that he won’t go, and I’m not upset that he isn’t going to go with me. What I’m upset about is that this is just one more piece of us crumbling. It’s the combination of all the other times he’s blown me off, all the other times I’ve preferred to be alone. It’s the lack of effort on both of our parts that has me questioning the stability of our relationship and the foundation we built it on.
Shouldn’t we want to spend time together?
Quietly, I open the front door and shut it softly behind me. My body feels like it weighs a thousand pounds as I trudge my way down the hall. You’d think I walked twenty miles instead of five feet by the way my lungs are gasping for oxygen.
Oh my hell. I’m being ridiculous.
A door closes softly behind me, and a tiny ember of hope sparks.
See? Tony still cares about our relationship. He could tell I was hurt and wants to spend some time with me. I turn, expecting to see Tony striding toward me, but I find my neighbor instead.
“Hey,” he says, a smile playing on his lips. “Long time, no see.”
I laugh dryly while trying to hold back tears of disappointment. “Hey.”
Rhett’s face fills with concern as he steps closer. “Is everything okay?”
My head shakes on its own before I can stop it. “I don’t really know anymore.” Another humorless laugh escapes me. I seem to be doing that a lot tonight. I can’t believe I admitted something so openly honest to my neighbor who is practically a stranger.
I need to leave. Now. Or else I’ll curl into a ball by Rhett’s feet and won’t ever get up. I turn to take the stairs, but Rhett’s calloused hand grabs my forearm softly.
“Wait.”
I stop, my heart pounding against my ribcage at his innocent touch.
“What’s going on? You were smiling less than thirty minutes ago. What changed?”
I shake my head, but he waits, not backing down from his question or his concern.