Fury.
I shove both emotions down, hard.
Because I’m not that girl. I refuse to be a cliché.
You know the one.
The lonely, curvy girl who falls into bed with a guy and then falls apart when he disappears.
Even if the sex was toe-curling, soul-shaking, body-rocking perfection.
Even if he made me laugh. And blush. And believe—if only for a few hours—that maybe, just maybe, there was something real there.
Nope. Not today.
I crawl out of bed, yank my hair into a messy bun, and ignore the ache in my chest.
And okay between my thighs too—because yeah.
Eb. Was. Everything.
But clearly not mine to keep.
I shower, dress, and march downstairs like nothing happened.
Because the cookies won’t decorate themselves.
Because there’s a gala order due.
And because my worth is not determined by a man, even one who smells like danger and frosting and made me come so hard I saw snowflakes.
The front bell jingles mid-morning, and I brace myself for the worst—another complaint, another late pickup, another customer asking for a gluten-free, nut-free, sugar-free yule log like I’m a miracle worker instead of a stressed-out witch with a spatula.
But instead, a familiar figure barrels through the door like a one-woman hurricane in a puffy coat and fuzzy earmuffs.
“Okay,” Emery declares, windblown and wild-eyed, wielding a to-go coffee tray like it’s a tray of holy elixirs. “I don’t care if I’m dying. I couldn’t leave you solo another day.”
“You’re not dying.”
“Tell that to the chicken soup graveyard in my sink,” she mutters darkly, thunking the coffees onto the counter before throwing her arms around me.
She squeezes me hard, then pulls back like she’s suddenly spotted a clue in a murder mystery.
Her eyes narrow.
“Wait a second. Are you—ooh la la! Is that post-coital afterglow I see pinkening your cheeks? Spill.”
I open my mouth.
Then close it.
Then scowl.
She gasps so dramatically I’m surprised she doesn’t faint into the cookie display.
“Oh. My. God. You did it. And when I say it, I mean sex. You did sex with Mr. Green Eyes!”
“Oh my God, Emery, I know what you mean, and please, do not go there.”
