Sweet Addiction: A Meet/Cute Romantic Comedy

Chapter 29

Monday morning comes quicker than I would have liked. I pass out early on Sunday and sleep soundly, not hearing my phone ring when Joey calls in the middle of the night. Noticing the missed call when my alarm goes off, I dial him quickly, putting it on speaker phone as I get into my running gear.

"I have news, cupcake. I'm on my way though, so meet me out front."

"Okay." I end the call and slip on my sports bra, tank top, and running shorts before popping into my Nikes. Grabbing my phone and my keys, I run downstairs and out the front door, locking up behind me as I begin to stretch.

It's already humid out and my top begins to stick to me in the most uncomfortable way possible. Summers in Chicago can be brutal, and when you start sweating immediately after stepping outside in the early morning hours, you know you're in for a hot one. This is one of the reasons why I don't understand the appeal for a summer wedding, at least not here anyway. Maybe somewhere with no humidity that doesn't turn your hair into a frizz fest after spending hours on making it look nothing less than perfect. I attended an outdoor wedding a few summers ago where I appallingly watched my beautiful three-tiered white chocolate creation melt in front of everyone at the reception. It was awful. Luckily, the bride thought it was hilarious and didn't care one way or the other because she was so deliriously happy to be married to her husband. Juls worked that wedding with me and told me the couple had only been dating nine weeks before he proposed to her, and at the time, I remember thinking there was no way in hell that marriage was going to last. How could anyone know without a doubt that they wanted to be with each other forever after only being together a few months? Juls agreed with me, saying the bride had mentioned how strongly her family was against the marriage, but she didn't care. She told my best friend she didn't want to wait any longer to start her life with him and that when it's right, it's just right. The past three summers on their anniversary, I've gotten a thank you card from the bride for helping make their day so special. And now look at Juls. She's only known Ian a few months and is crazy in love with him.

And look at you, Dylan. No, don't look at me. Nothing to see here.

My eyes flick toward the pavement as Joey's tall frame comes jogging in my direction. Stopping in front of me and pulling his knee to his chest, he looks giddy beyond his usual giddy self.

"Are you going to make me ask?" I question, stretching my arms over my head.

He smiles and switches legs. "Billy asked me to move in with him."

Whoa. "What? Are you serious? That's crazy. What did you say?"

"Yes. Obviously." He jumps up and down on his feet and motions to me that he is ready to start running.

"Obviously? Joey, do you even really know this guy? He could cut out your organs and sell them on eBay. He could have a weird fetish."

He shakes his head. "I know him as well as you know Reese and you're in love with him."

Fucking Juls. Jesus Christ, I need some new friends. "I cannot believe she told you that. I will cut a bitch next time her skinny ass walks into my shop." Realizing Joey has stopped running, I glance back and see his expression. Motherfucker. He is one sneaky bitch.

"I fucking knew it. You love him, Dylan. Oh, my God, this is fantastic." Running up to me, he grabs my shoulders and pulls me against his already drenched shirt.

"Gross, you're all sweaty. And I am not in love with him. Juls told me she was in love with Ian and I said something about maybe, possibly, doubtfully one day being in love with Reese. That's it. End of discussion."

Stepping back and holding me at arm's length, he studies me for a moment before he speaks. "Okay, whatever. But I think I'm in love, so can we focus on that fucking weirdness for a second?"

We hit our stride and I let Joey tell me all about how he's seen Billy practically every night since they met at the wedding and how he's never felt anything even close to this before, which I knew already. Joey is never shy about his feelings toward his hook ups and always shares more information than I would care to know. He tells me how they were hanging out at Billy's last night, lounging and watching television together when he just came out and asked Joey to move in and without hesitation, Joey said yes. He says he didn't have to think about it; he knows he wants to be with Billy every free second he has and he has never been this happy before with just one person. I'm speechless. I am literally without speech. This is Joey Holt we're talking about here. The man who went through other men like he was going for some kind of record. He once hooked up with three guys in one night at a club and did it without them knowing about each other. His longest running relationship was five minutes. And now, after a little over a week of knowing somebody, he's wifing up? I'm not sure whose wedding I'll be getting fitted for first, Juls' or Joey's.

I call Mrs. Frey that afternoon, confirming the details of her anniversary cake she wants me to create for her since I missed our meeting on Tuesday. She sweetly asks me how I am feeling and tells me how excited she is to be celebrating fifty years of marriage with her husband. Fifty years. I can't even imagine. She's a bit undecided about her cake flavors, knowing only her husband wants a chocolate cake, but not having any other preferences. I smile to myself when I ask her if the two of them like mint chocolate and she squeals into the phone. Suggesting my newly discovered chocolate peppermint frosting and telling her how absolutely decadent it is, she settles on her cake and I reassure her it will be ready for pickup on Friday.

After ending her call, I slip my phone out of my pocket and scroll to the contact info of a certain icing lover.

Me: Guess what kind of cake I get to make for someone's anniversary? I'll give you a hint. It's a flavor you seem to be quite fond of.

I walk into the back as Joey helps a customer, and begin pulling out ingredients. I have a good amount of baking to do tonight to prepare for the meeting I'm supplying tomorrow and want to start on it as soon as possible. I decide to make an assortment of muffins, blueberry, poppy seed, and my banana nut ones, some apple turnovers, and a variety of fruit and cheese danishes. The excitement of seeing Reese is almost palpable at this point and I need to stay busy. Placing my mixer on the worktop, my phone beeps and I run over to where I've laid it down on the other side of the table.

Reese: Could it be a cake with a certain hot pink frosting that I licked off you?

Me: That's the one. I don't think I'll look at that frosting the same again. Or my worktop for that matter.

Reese: Well, I'll definitely never look at my couch the same. How's your day going?

I giggle and pull the baking flour, sugar, and salt off the shelf.

Me: Good. Busy like every Monday. I'm going to be slammed all night making the breakfast treats for tomorrow. How's your day?

Reese: Full of meetings that I'm having trouble focusing on. My mind is elsewhere.

Me: Oh, is that right? And where is that dirty mind of yours right now?

I grab several mixing bowls and baking sheets and spread them out in front of me as I let my own mind wander elsewhere.

Reese: Well, it's imagining you spread out in front of me wearing a dress with nothing underneath it, your legs open and my face buried between them. But earlier, I was fucking you on my desk, against my window, and in my chair. I've had a very unproductive day.

"Shit." Note to self, never read a dirty text from Reese while opening a bag of flour, which I am now currently covered in. "Nice one, Dylan."

"You all right, cupcake?" Joey yells from up front as I quickly dust myself off.

"Yeah. Reese is also really good at the explicit text messaging. Like really good."

"Goddamn it, Billy."

I laugh under my breath at Joey's comment as I sweep up the flour I've just spilled everywhere. Wiping my hands off on my apron, I grab my phone and quickly reply.

Me: Well, I think we should be able to make at least one of those things happen tomorrow. That big dick better be ready for me.

Reese: My dick and I can't wait. See you tomorrow, love.