Piece of Cake | Ashton Irwin [au]

Twenty-one

Ruth's POV

My hand grips tightly onto the leather strap of my purse as I stand outside the bakery entrance. Through the glass door I can see several kids trotting about inside, chasing one another, and I instantly regret coming. There are so many kids. Too many kids. What have I gotten myself into? There's no way I can handle being around so many kids without feeling like their prey. The can probably smell my fear for all I know.

Maybe I'll just tell Michael and Ashton that I forgot about the baking lessons. Or I can lie and say that I slept in late. That wouldn't be too bad, actually. Some extra sleep would be nice. Any excuse will work as long as I don't have to stay here with all these tiny people.

I turn away from the door in attempt to leave but am blocked by a tall figure standing in front of me. His black snapback covering his fading red hair does nothing to decrease the femininity of the purple apron around his neck.

"Where do you think you're going, Ruth?" Michael asks with a prominent smirk as he continues blocking my escape route.

"I-uh...I left something in my car and I was just going to get it," I say with a weak laugh.

He hums, unconvinced by my pathetic lie. "Really? Then why do you look like you're about to run for the hills?"

"Uh..." My mind goes completely blank and there's no use in trying to get out of this now. He can see right through me, but that's partially my fault since I am terrible at lying on the spot.

Michael lightly pushes my shoulder and turns me around to face the entrance again. "Come on," he says and opens the door for me, pushing me inside the bakery against my will. "You're not getting out of this so easily. You said you wouldn't back out and I'm going to hold you to that."

Ten, fifteen, no, twenty-I can't keep count of all these kids roaming about the shop. The majority of them are boys, but there are a few girls in the bunch. They all talk as if they know each other, but they're all of different ages so that can't be the case. Based on their height, I don't think any of kids are older than ten.

As I walk deeper into the shop, the sound of traffic outside ceases and is replaced with the high-pitched screams of children. They project their voices even though they're talking to each other face-to-face. Haven't they heard of using their inside voice?

"You actually came," a familiar accented voice says from across the room.

I look in all directions for the source of his voice until I finally spot the mop of curls behind the counter by the cash register. Ashton's cheeks dimple, which distracts me from the hoard of children as he waves to me. I weave my way around the kids and try not to bump into any of them or step on their tiny feet as I make my way over to Ashton.

"I caught her trying to scurry off," Michael tattles, earning a subtle glare from me as he joins his best friend behind the counter.

"If you don't want to stay you don't have to," Ashton says.

I give him a quizzical look. Both he and Michael insisted I come to these lessons and I shamefully agreed. Now he's telling me that I don't have to stay after all their begging? This is a change in character for him.

"Just know that if you do leave you won't get the cake that you'd be making if you stayed," Ashton adds with a devilish smirk.

I retract my previous thought. I should know better than to think that he would let me leave without some sort of catch. He's learning how to use my weakness against me like the cheeky villain he is. To think I actually like this guy.

"I don't like you right now," I say with narrowed eyes, which only makes him chuckle.

"I can't say the same," he says, and out of the corner of my eye I see Michael roll his eyes.