There’s no holding back my smile.“We did.We could have some now and some for breakfast?”
“Yes!”she says enthusiastically and then groans, putting a hand to her head.I pluck the package of Tylenol I ordered with the cocoa and hand it to her before grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and twisting the lid off.
“Oh, Ollie, I love you,” Phoebe groans before taking a pill and washing it down with the water.
Who knew hearing the words I’ve longed to hear would hurt so much?I start pulling the assorted chocolate desserts from the carry-out bag so she can’t see the truth on my face.
“Looks like we have flourless chocolate cake, chocolate layer cake, chocolate mousse, and chocolate-covered strawberries.”I open each container and set it on the table.“Is there anything you want all for yourself, or do you want to share?”
By the longing look on her face, I think I know her answer.
“I want some of all of it.I need to know how the competition is,” she says.
Chuckling, I take my place on the sofa next to her and hand over a fork and a napkin.“Phoebe, as delicious as all these surely are, I’m betting none of them compare to what you can create.”I gesture with my fork.“Lady’s choice.”
Apparently, forks are divining rods, at least in Phoebe’s hand.She holds it over each dessert, waits a moment like she’s getting a mystical vibration, and then moves one.She decides to start with the flourless chocolate cake, so I go for the layer cake.While I maintain that Phoebe can bake a better chocolate layer cake, this is damn good.LikeI-want-this-for-our-wedding-cakegood.
Phoebe takes a bite of the layer cake next, and I scoop up some mousse.It’s so rich and silky, I can’t help the happy little whimper that passes my lips.
“That good?”she asks.
I nod.“I think if the layer cake had this mousse between the layers and the frosting it has now on top, it would be the perfect cake.”
Her brown eyes now make me think of chocolate mousse as they light up.“Yes!I need to convince someone to do a chocolate wedding cake so I can make it.”
“Do it for our wedding cake.”The words fly out of my mouth before I have a chance to filter them.Even if I could take them back, I don’t think I would.I focus on the flourless chocolate cake next.Phoebe is watching me, her gaze a weight settling on me like a blanket.My focus remains on the cake.My face will broadcast every thought and feeling I have, and I’m not brave enough to be that defenseless.Not that I think Phoebe would ever hurt me intentionally.I know she loves me in her way, but that way isn’t what I need.
“Oh, wow, this mousse is sinful,” she says.“Using mousse like this for a wedding cake could be tricky because it should be refrigerated.If we had a traditional wedding with a reception, the cake would need to be brought out.That’s not ideal.But maybe I could find a similar filling that’s more stable.”
“Or we don’t have a traditional wedding and reception,” I say.Like there’s any reason to discuss a wedding at all.She probably won’t remember it come morning anyway, with how drunk she is.She seems sober, but I don’t believe anything she says.They sayin vino veritas, but Phoebe wasn’t drinking wine.I sayin lemonade lies.Not that I think she’d lie to me on purpose, but I don’t believe the things she says and does while drunk or woozy from pain killers.That’s how we ended up engaged, because she said something she didn’t mean to when she wasn’t thinking straight.
“Want a strawberry?”She holds one up to my mouth.
She may not remember tonight, but I will.I take a bite and hum.It’s so juicy and the chocolate’s so rich.I leave over half the berry, and Phoebe takes a bite, closing her eyes in pleasure as she chews.Her lips are damp with strawberry juice, and I wish I had the right to kiss it off her.My cock stiffens, and I try to distract myself by thinking about hockey plays and the teams we’re going to face on our road trip.
“You have icing on your face,” Phoebe says, calling my attention back to her.Not that it ever really leaves her when she’s anywhere near me.Or on the planet.In the universe.Yeah.I got it bad.
I go to wipe it with my napkin, but she holds up her napkin and motions me closer.I lean forward, and to my shock—and delight—Phoebe does too and presses her lips against mine.I freeze.My brain doesn’t.It is shouting,Oh my god, I’m kissing Phoebe!But I’m not.I’m sitting there like a statue.A statue with a pounding heart and a cock turning to marble.I may never get this chance again, so I start kissing her back.I may be inexperienced, but I’m not stupid.I’ve seen people kiss, understand the basics.But none of that prepared me for the strawberry sweetness of Phoebe’s lips.For the way her chocolate-colored hair is silky-smooth against my fingers when I cup her face.
Her tongue flicks against my lips.Maybe to get the icing, I don’t really care why.I part them, and her tongue slips inside and glides against mine.I groan at all the sensations rushing through me.I’m so incredibly glad I didn’t kiss the bachelorette on that stupid TV show, that I waited for Phoebe.Phoebe is the only person I want to do this with.Forever.
I don’t know if we kiss for minutes or hours.Time loses all meaning.Eventually we pull apart because breathing is necessary.I’d be willing to give up drawing another breath to keep on kissing her for the rest of my life, but I want it to be a long life.So I must breathe.
She giggles, and it’s adorable.“You taste like that yummy lemonade.”
It’s like I got dunked into an ice bath after a particularly rough game.The lemonade.She’s drunk.Phoebe is kissing me because she’s drunk and doesn’t know what she’s doing.I shouldn’t have kissed her back like I did.I feel sick at the thought of accidentally taking advantage of Phoebe in her condition.
I drop my hands from Phoebe’s face and pull back.
“I…I…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that,” I stammer.
She looks at me, stunned.
“You’re sorry?”she asks.“For what?”
“Kissing you.”
Now she’s pulling back, her stunned expression replaced with hurt.Shit.I’m fucking this all up.
