We can be friends who accidentally kissed when he felt sorry for me for being such a failure at basically everything in life.
Friends who do things like bring each other ice cream, which he did, and it’s sitting on the table melting in its carton. I pull it out of the bag, intending to take it to the freezer—where I would very much liketo put my vagina right now, too, until she’s also under control—and then I realize what I’m holding. “Oh my God.Did you seriously buy Soy Sweet ice cream? Where did you even get that?”
“Pick-n-Shop. They’re stocking it for you.” His face twitches, and once again, he tries to give me a normal smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes or his posture, which is stiff as my high school principal’s sense of humor. “But if it’s all the same to you, I think I’d rather have the chocolate than the ... ice cream ... stuff.”
I grimace. “Same. There isnothingdelicious about frozen ground soybeans, no matter what they flavor it with. I’ll stop in and buy more in a few days.”
For appearances.
Theonlything Soy Sweet ice cream is good for is as organic compost.
I’ve mentioned I can’t wait to leave this life behind, right?
“Don’t buy it all too fast,” he says. “They’ll order more.”
“Oh yeah, totes,” I agree. “But good job picking this up for me. Everyone will know you were bringing it to me, and then they’ll start talking about us, and we can be all,We’re just friends, because we are, and then you’ll have women swarming you. I bet Lola asks you to dinner within twenty-four hours, if she hasn’t already.”
Dylan’s face twitches. Not like Teague’s is always twitching—Teague has a perpetual case ofI’m annoyed with the world—but like he’s not sure he’s ready for all the women in Tickled Pink and beyond to decide he’s the catch of the century.
But then he sticks a finger in the chocolate mold, pulls it out, and licks it.
And there goes my lady boner all over again.
Along with an irrational desire to go all Wonder Woman on any woman who hits on Dylan.
And that’sbeforehis eyes slide shut and he moans. “Holy shit, Tavi. Is that wasabi?”
I wince. “Is it bad? Too hot? All wrong for chocolate? Why am I second-guessing this?I know it’s good.And even if it’s horrible, there are people who eat puffer fish that could kill themjust to say they did it, so of course it doesn’t matter how it tastes so long as it’s packaged well, and—wait. You know what wasabi is? Wait, wait. Sorry. That was offensive.Quit making me flustered.By complimenting my chocolate, I mean. That’s theonlyreason I’m flustered.”
His smile gets more real as he dips his finger in the chocolate again.
He has to quit licking his fingers like that.
If he were my usual kind of boyfriend—the convenient,let’s be fake friends when it’s over, just-in-it-for-the-publicity kind of boyfriend—then I’d be asking if he wanted to taste something else right now.
Specifically, my pussy.
But he’s not my usual kind of boyfriend. Or potential boyfriend.
He’s a nice guy who has a life here and who doesn’t need the stain ofmylife all over him when I leave.
He’s the kind of guy you want to settle down with, have babies with, and get dirty with in the sheets every night, andgood God, have my breasts ever been this heavy and achy?
“You ever have Mexican hot chocolate?” he asks. “I’d give my monkey wrench for a truffle that tastes like good Mexican hot chocolate.”
“You’re a foodie.” I try to subtly rub away the pressure behind my nipples with my forearm while I squat to wipe the floor. He has no idea just how much more attractive he gets every time he opens his mouth, and he keeps opening his mouth, and I have to kick him out.
I need to start avoiding him again.
It’s not smooth. It’s notcouth. I was raised better than to hide from a man just because I have an irrational crush that keeps growing like a fungus.
Yes. A crush is like fungus. And not like agoodfungus, like mushrooms, but like the kind you just can’t get rid of.
“Had a stepfather once who was a chef,” he says. “Arrogant as hell, but dude could cook. Your chocolates are good. You don’t have to fret.”
He. Has. To. Quit. Talking. “It’s all in good growing, and honestly? We don’t really know yet if we’ll have good beans. We bought these off a different farm. You don’t have to stay here and clean up. I’ve got it. This is, like, nothing compared to the mess I usually make. You should see what all I’ve cleaned chocolate off of in here. It’s, like,somessy sometimes.”
He cuts a glance at me that says he sees right through me. Like he knows I’m turning on the Tavi Lightly Show, and he doesn’t want fake me.
