Chapter Thirteen
David
Leavingmy bed this morning was hands down the hardest thing I’ve done in my life. Ask me to bake two hundred custard tarts and then a four-tier cake? Easy. Getting out of bed when Joel was in it? Hard. Although not as hard as I was right the fuck now, thinking of Joel lying there in boxer shorts and a T-shirt that was crumpled up, showing the outline of his perfect ass.
Maybe it was good that I had to go to work today because had I not, I’m not sure I would have stopped myself from touching Joel like I wanted to.
Now that Joel knew I was gay and we’d kissed again, it was like my mind had found permission to think of all the possible scenarios in which I wanted Joel. On me, under me, in me, around me, fuuuck!
Yesterday when we came back from the beach, we went to my place, planning on watching a load of crap TV, eating cake, and working on the plans for our road trip. Joel had gone to his apartment to grab some sweatpants and a T-shirt while I’d been in charge of rustling up a cake.
By the time Joel had come back, the cake was nearly ready to go in the oven, so he grabbed a beer from the fridge and sat at the kitchen table watching me work.
“Wow, you work fast. What are you making?” he asked.
“Thanks.” I smiled. “I’m used to doing it, I guess. I’m making a chocolate-and-vanilla marble cake.”
“Can’t wait. When is it going to be ready?” Joel asked impatiently.
“We had bifanas not that long ago. How are you still hungry?”
“Who said I was hungry? It’s cake. There’s always room for cake. Besides, I need to test the quality of your baking. I hear it’s the best.”
I felt my skin warm at the compliment.
In the safety and comfort of the walls of my apartment, I was comfortable talking and even flirting with Joel. It felt good, natural, and I was pretty sure it wasn’t just because I was attracted to him. We were first and foremost friends, and the ease with which our relationship had worked when we were kids hadn’t disappeared in adulthood.
For the rest of the day, we talked, drank beer, and finally caught up with the missing years. We also ate cake, and I found out that Joel was right. For him, there was always space for cake, and the proof was in the plate of crumbs that was still sitting in the sink when I left this morning.
True to Joel’s suggestion, we weren’t alone last night. He slept in my bed right next to me, and I fell asleep fast and deep like I hadn’t in a long time. We hadn’t kissed again, but we held each other close.
I usually slept on my side, facing the door, but this morning when I woke up and opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was the ceiling and then felt a weight on me, warming me like a blanket.
I’d looked down and saw Joel wrapped all around me, his head on my chest, his arm had come around my torso, trapped under me, and his legs snaked around mine. I felt his morning erection against my thigh while mine was trapped against his leg, and I’d wanted for nothing else but to pull him even closer, wake him up with kisses, and take care of our growing problem.
Needing to get up to go to work was the only thing that was stopping me from giving in.
I’d carefully disentangled myself from Joel, leaving him mumbling in his sleep—something about cake—and took care of myself with a quick shower. I left a note asking Joel to join me in the café later and left.
It was almost ten in the morning when Joel came through the café doors, looking rested and having the biggest smile on his face. It suited him, being happy. His eyes were always a little bluer when he smiled.
“Hey, bom dia,sleepyhead.” He looked around as if checking there was no one around. My heart warmed at the thought he was mindful of my secret. “It’s just me here. We had a quiet spell, so my aunt went out to run some errands. My uncle is closing, so he’ll be in at lunchtime. Have you had breakfast?” I asked.
“Yeah, I went home for a shower and had something to eat too. Although I wouldn’t say no to a fresh custard tart, and I’m not even ashamed to ask for one.” He winked.
God, this man was going to be the death of me.
“Anyway, you left me a message asking to come here.”
“Yes, thanks for coming. Are you busy today? I was hoping to recruit your help,” I said, hoping he’d say yes.
“My help? Yes, of course. What can I do?” Joel sounded excited, and that made me feel much better about asking for his help. Truth be told, I was also looking forward to spending the day with him.
I didn’t have any outstanding cake orders and no events, so my work for the day consisted of making five hundred custard tarts to freeze. I always preferred to bake them fresh each day, but there wasn’t much difference in the resulting product. This way, I could be away from the café without it having an impact on our primary product offering. With Joel’s help, I was hoping to be able to finish it all in time for us to go away tomorrow.
As soon as my aunt came back from her errands, I took Joel into the kitchen and explained what I needed help with. He wouldn’t be required to do anything very complex, but measuring ingredients and cleaning stuff as we went along was vital to the speed of the process.
We moved around with ease as we did our respective tasks, occasionally touching a hand or an arm while reaching out for something and smiling at each other. I felt relaxed and happy despite the heavy workload.
