The Bad Boy Loves Cupcakes

Chapter 1

*Kat's POV*

I drummed my fingers restlessly on the countertop. I, Katrina Miller, am working my shift at my lovely aunt's bakery, and am officially bored out of my mind.

"Aunt May! Are you done yet?" I called over my shoulder, waiting for my aunt-slash-boss to pop out of the back room.

"Yes, Kat darling, just give me a minute!" She shouted back immediately. I heard a thud and a creak, and soon after she backed out of the small doorway holding two large pastry boxes. She came to stand in front of me and slid the boxes on the counter, smiling triumphantly at her handiwork. I couldn't blame her for bring proud. Her small, petite frame made it difficult to manage even the smallest of weight loads. I slow clapped to show my appreciation, and she bowed as if she had put on a show.

"Well." She said, smiling and flicking her short, straight blonde hair out of her eyes. "I have a few deliveries to make. It probably won't take long, but I might be over an hour, so you man the shop, okay?" I nodded. This was a usual occurrence for me and Aunt May, and I was often left to take care of the shop while she was out.

She picked her boxes back up, and began shuffling out of the doorway. "Don't cause any trouble!" She jokingly scolded me, and I just shook my head in response, smiling softly. I was the exact opposite of the kind of girl who would cause trouble. Yep, call me a goody two shoes, I just preferred things a bit more...calm.

The jingle of the bells above the door told me she was officially gone, and I slouched against the counter. I could tell this shift was gonna be long. As busy as Aunt May's Bakery could be, the quaint little dessert shop was, well, deserted today.

I looked around, observing the place I was so used to working at once again. Aunt May, bless her heart, was not only crafty, but very much so on the girly side. Her square shop had pink and white striped walls, with fairy lights adorning the trim. White chiffon curtains graced the windows on either side of the shop, and each table was adorned with a white, lacy tablecloths and loads of frilly, delicious desserts. It was definitely adorable, and went perfectly with Aunt May's personality, but it doesn't suit me nearly as much. I preferred things more simple, white and black and grey. Which was exactly why I usually worked behind the counter, or in the back room, aka kitchen and storage. Like I was now, for instance. Just sitting behind a counter, in an empty store, full of deserts I am so tempted to eat, but unable to because I- cue sarcastic finger quotes- "work here". I mean, seriously, what kind of an excuse is that? Junk food is a thousand times more important than a job. My tummy grumbled in agreement.

I knew we had spare sweets in the back room. "Misfit Sweets", as Aunt May called them. Desserts that she had messed up on, or cooked incorrectly, or were the wrong color, etc etc. She usually threw them out, the poor things. They were unloved by all... Except me. All treats are yummy to me, and I will eat them gladly, for I love them so. Just thinking about those pastries sitting all by themselves made me long to give them some company. I fought myself for a few moments. You should, no you can't. You have to man the store. Be a MAN. But you're so hungry, one little taste won't do you harm. Besides, the store is empty, and Aunt May isn't here to scold you...

At that thought I looked at my surroundings once again. The shop was absolutely barren, void of all life except my own. Giving a curt nod to no one in particular, I hopped off my bar stool and sauntered into the back room with a show of finality. Time to eat some delicious desserts...

***

Oh, man. Oh, man. I let out a satisfactory hum as I downed my sixth cupcake, which had followed two cookies and a cinnamon bun. These were so good. I could literally sit here all day eating cupcakes and-