I laugh so hard my drink shoots out of my nose. Carla identifies as pansexual, there are no restraints on attraction or love for her.
“And just why were you late for class, hmm?” she asks me.
“Oh, yeah,” I mumble, suddenly finding the décor in the café very interesting.
“Thought I forgot, huh?” She cocks an eyebrow. “Let’s hear it. Chop, chop.”
“I may have accidentally watched Beau,” I clear my throat, drawing invisible squiggly lines on the wooden table, “masturbate and he, umm… caught me.”
“Come again,” Pete draws out slowly, struggling not to laugh and failing miserably. “How do youaccidentallywatch someone masturbate?”
Carla and Wren aptly await my response, both sporting amused expressions.
“He was standing right in front of his window,” I snap defensively.
“Didn’t mean you had to watch,” Wren points out.
“I couldn’t help myself,” I whine. “His dick is cervix-bumping huge. You wouldn’t have been able to look away, either.”
“Okay, he has a big schlong.” Carla motions for me to continue. “So, what happened this morning?”
“I couldn’t leave the house because he was mowing his lawn.” Carla blinks several times. “I was too embarrassed to face him,” I explain, fidgeting in my seat. “Anyway, when he went inside, I made a run for my car, but he caught me and confronted me about watching him.”
“Then what happened?” Pete presses, wholly invested in my dramatic tale.
“I jumped in my car and got the hell out of there,” I say, wringing my hands. “What am I going to do?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Carla whispers, a serious edge in her voice. “You have to kill him.”
They all hoot in laughter, losing the battle to keep their mirth under control.
“Don’t bust a gut,” I deadpan.
I won’t be getting any sound advice from the three stooges.
I push my cart down the aisle, leisurely perusing the cereal options available. I really should choose something healthy, but my self-control is zilch these days. Also, I crave sugar when my nerves are in overdrive. I’ve been in the grocery store for nearly thirty minutes. I’m usually in-and-out since it’s just my spoiled fur baby and me, but going home means possibly bumping intohim. After brunch, I got my car washed, then went to a few stores and bought unnecessary shit, all to avoid the inevitable. I’m going to have to face him eventually. Well, I could stay incognito until he goes back to work then move out. There’s a thought. I already emailed Gene and inquired about breaking my lease. Seems extreme, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
I spot my favorite cereal on the top shelf and push to the balls of my feet, extending my short arm as far as possible. My fingertips brush the cereal box, but I can’t get a grip. Someone reaches over me, snagging my chosen morning meal. I spin around and find Beau looming behind me, only a hairsbreadth between us. His clean laundry scent invades my senses, enveloping me like a warm blanket fresh from the dryer. It’s uniquely him—no cologne or other manufactured fragrances. I want to bury my nose in his neck and inhale his essence.
“Is this what you want, Sweet Peach?” he asks, his sexy lips twisting in a lopsided smile. “What are you willing to give me for it?”
I stand there like a deer in headlights, words escaping me.Say something you idiot!He drops the Cinnamon Toast Crunch into my cart.
“No charge this time, but we do need to finish our conversation,” he states, closing the distance between us. “Did you enjoy the show?”
The heat from his body seeps through my thin yoga top, hardening my nipples to stiff points.
“I-I d-don’t k-know—”
“Still playing innocent, huh?” Beau rasps, running his index finger down my cheek. “I’m dying to know something, Sweet Peach. Did that little pussy flutter and gush?” He dips his nose into the space where my neck and shoulder meet. “Just how wet did she get for my dick?”
His voice is like warm chocolate, smooth and decadent. It flows over me, lighting a fire in my belly.
“My name is Eve,” I mutter breathlessly.
He lifts his head, amusement glittering in his steel-blue gaze. “I know your name, but I like Sweet Peach better.”
“You were standing in front of your window,” I say, aiming for an accusing tone, but my words come out in a soft murmur.
