Unexpected Love

Chapter 11 - Greyson

"Don't eat that yet, I just took them out of the oven!" Bailey screeches at Anthony swatting him on the head with the pink oven mitt. He drops the red cupcake that he picked up from the metal tray on the pink and white checkered floors with a shriek. She narrows her eyes at him as she pouts at the cupcake she had baked that was now smashed onto the ground.

"That's hot!" He bellows waving his hand in the air to cool down.

"No shit." She deadpans eyes narrowed at him.

Anthony gasps stilling for a moment, mouth and eyes open wide. "I had a dream I was surrounded by hotcakes," he says randomly, his statement directed at Bailey. She looks up from the batter of frosting she's mixing.

"Hot cakes?" She asks her blue eyes shining in amusement as she quirks a brow at him.

"You're hotcakes." He nods repeatedly at her.

"My hotcakes, did I make them?" She asks, confused, continuing to mix the batter.

What the fuck is even a hotcake?

"No, you are hotcakes," he stated with a playful smile on his face.

"What?" She asks smiling in amusement.

"What?"

Drunk Anthony was a sober Anthony but more idiotic. Drunk, Anthony was so much worse. While sober Anthony knew when to stop his idiotic remarks and jokes. Drunk him had no filter. I knew he wasn't sober enough to know he was flirting with Bailey while we were standing in the same bakery I had bought her.

I knew he wasn't sober enough to know I hated him for flirting with her and making that beautiful laugh come out of her. He also wasn't sober enough to see the way I was staring at her.

Maybe I liked oblivious drunk Anthony.

Three weeks had passed since I had spilled my guts to her on the kitchen floor, since we baked cookies and laughed together.

Three weeks had passed since she kissed me on the cheek.

For three weeks she's acted like her lips never touched my skin. Even though I wanted those lips on mine so fucking bad. She's walking around like she hadn't confused me and had me wanting more. She wasn't ignoring me but more so avoiding the subject.

She was walking around with a wide smile and an ass I wanted my hands on so bad. I want to touch her in places only I could touch. I wanted to be the only one that could see what was under her little tight dresses. She was strutting her round her ass and perky tits bouncing with every step.

My dick was constantly hard around her. I was hard right now.

She wasn't ignoring me actually. After my cheek kiss, we ate cookies and exchanged numbers, and I left when Riley came home.

I didn't want her to be alone.

Since that day she shot me a message along the lines of "Come pick up today's treat."

That's it.

Just five words every day, and when I did come to pick them up she wouldn't be home, just a white cardboard box on the porch.

With a note.

It would seem along the lines of fucking pathetic when I say I kept each and every single fucking one of those neatly printed-handwritten notes in my bedside drawer.

The box would have a different type of dessert settled inside whether it was cupcakes, a different kind of cookie, or some macaroon flavor. The next time I would see her she would ask for my honest opinion and her blue eyes would sparkle at me begging me not to lie, and to give it to her straight.