Chapter 7
CHAPTER
SEVEN
SHAWN
Sitting straight up, I look around the room, my heart racing. I don’t know what woke me up, but a light sheen of sweat is covering my entire body. I wipe the sweat from my forehead and let out a heavy sigh as I throw my legs over the side of the bed.
Walking toward my bathroom, I do my business, then wash my hands.
Slowly, I lift my head and stare at my reflection in the mirror.
I look exhausted. I also appear flushed as I stare at myself.
Lifting my hands to my cheeks, I touch my skin and let out another breath before I turn and head out of the bathroom.
I dreamed of him. I don’t know why. I’ve never dreamed of a man before, but I can’t stop thinking about his hands on my body, on my skin, and then beneath my clothes. He kissed me a few times last night, but nothing more happened. He left me at my apartment with a kiss and a smile.
I’m not sure if he’ll really forget my existence come tomorrow, but I need him to. Otherwise, I think I might throw myself at him the next time I see him. So I need to not see him again. That’s what I say to myself anyway. He needs to just forget I exist. And I need to do the damn same.
Moving through my small apartment, I head toward the fridge and tug it open, reaching for the pitcher of filtered water I keep inside.
I turn and set it down on the counter, then open the cabinet beside the sink and take out a clean glass.
Filling it up, I lift the glass to my lips and begin to drink.
I’m thirsty and tired. I don’t know what to do. I’m so conflicted about everything. On the one hand, sex is just an act, right? What does it even matter if I give in to King? I love the way he makes me feel, and I know it would be amazing between us.
On the other hand, should I just do whatever with anyone? Shouldn’t I keep part of myself sacred? It’s not like I’m a virgin. I’ve had sex before, just not a lot. Like, so not a lot, that I’ve only ever been with one person. My high school boyfriend of a total of three months.
We had sex, and that was it. He got what he wanted, and he was gone.
I looked him up on social media a few months ago, and his new girlfriend looked about eighteen, maybe.
It seems like nothing has changed. He is, without a doubt, working girls, chasing them, then leaving them when he finally has them.
I wish I could warn them all, but I know how he is. How manipulative he is, and I know he’s already laid the foundation of the bricks in place in case someone tells them who he is.
So would staying hidden away, not seeing any man and focusing on my failing career be better? Or would it be a lot more fun to be wild and free with a man who would make me feel amazing but who I know won’t give two shits about me when he’s finished?
I walk back to bed, slip under the covers, and let out a heavy sigh as I roll to my side and face the window. I’m not sure what to do or what to expect at this point, but what I do know is that with the chaos of my life, of my bakery, I want to have some fun.
My eyes grow heavier and heavier, and then, finally, I fall asleep with thoughts of King on my brain. Thoughts of King seem to consume my every contemplation, and I can’t help but feel a sense of relief. It’s kind of nice to worry about something other than my failing business for a moment.
When I wake up, I still feel exhausted, but I also feel a bit more at peace with myself. I’m going to go for it. Well, I’m going to let it happen, naturally. So what if I don’t know him? So what if he fucks me and walks away?
I could do that, right?
I could be with someone and know that it is only physical. My alarm sounds what feels like seconds later, and I force myself to get up for the day. I have cupcakes to bake. I have frosting to whip up and cakes to decorate.
It’s Saturday morning, and even though I know nobody is going to be waltzing into the shop, I also know that if I don’t have cupcakes in my case, there is no point in me even unlocking my doors.
Once I’m dressed and ready for work, I gather my purse and keys, then move out of the apartment.
I smile, my decision made, and I feel good about it.
If King comes into the bakery and makes me an offer, I won’t refuse.
Though, I don’t think he will. I have a sneaky suspicion I’ll never see that man again.
It doesn’t take me long to walk to the bakery. Slipping into the back door, I lock it behind me, then start to move through the kitchen, gathering all the things to start on my baking adventure for the day.
I decide to make an organic, gluten-free red velvet cupcake with fluffy cream cheese icing and then place a few gorgeous naturally dyed sprinkles on top as my first cupcake of the day. I also make some vegan brownies and then some vegan and organic gluten-free cookies.
When the shop is open, I flip on the neon sign, unlock the door, and open it. I’ve written signs for every item in the case, along with prices. Then I stand behind my counter and wait. And wait. And then I wait some more.
Each hour that passes makes me feel even more disappointed in… well… life. I didn’t expect those bikers to eat my cupcakes and then swarm my shop for more, but I was hoping I would get a few people who trickled in.
But I have none.
Because nobody gives a shit about me or my shop at all. I made a little money at the party, but if I don’t start making some serious cash and soon, none of it will matter. The pain. From losing my business. The pain. From being rejected by this man.
All the damn above.
I’ve tried not to feel sorry for myself, except that’s exactly how I feel, and I hate it.
When closing time rolls around, I lock the front door, store everything away, and then make my way back toward the front door to let myself out. It’s after eight in the evening when I lock the door behind me.
I only go out the front of the building when it’s late.
Usually, I go around the back, but it scares the shit out of me out there when it’s dark.
There are zero lights, and it’s almost an alleyway.
I’ve seen enough scary movies to know that the single girl does not go out the back into a dark alleyway… ever.
I’m only a few steps down the sidewalk when a motorcycle flies by me.
I can’t stop myself from turning my head and looking over my shoulder at the rider, hoping to see him.
Like an idiot, wishing that it’s him, and he’s going to come back here and confess some kind of love for me or something stupid like that. ,
Then, before I can turn back straight ahead and continue on my way home, the motorcycle comes back around and he’s right beside me, his head turned, and his eyes focused on mine. He smirks, no doubt finding humor in my surprise.
“Hey there, sweetness.”
KING
Fuck me, but she looks sexy as hell walking down the street.
They’re revamping the downtown area of our small town, but that doesn’t mean it’s safe to walk around down here at night.
It’s dark, and I can see the more colorful members of our town start to make their way out from behind the dark corners where they hide during the day.
“Hop on the back,” I demand.
She shakes her head, then looks down at her feet before she lifts her head, her eyes finding mine. “Why?”
“Doesn’t matter. Plant your ass on the back of my bike.”
I watch as she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip. I can see the wheels working inside her brain. She’s thinking about what to do. Does she turn away from me and continue on her path, or does she climb onto the back of my bike and agree to my terms?
“What happens when I get on the back of your bike?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper and sexy as shit.
My fingers itch to touch her, to reach out and feel her smooth skin beneath them. But this has to be her move. She has to make it. I can only accept it from her. I am not going to force her to do anything.
There is a moment of silence as I wait. Her gaze flicks from the back of my bike to my eyes a few times before she lets out a sigh and moves to climb behind me. Her arms wrap around my waist, and her tits press against my back.
I could take her the few blocks to her apartment, but I decide against it. She doesn’t want to just fuck. She wants something more, and maybe it’s just because she’s harder to get than every other woman I’ve been with, but I’m intrigued.
So, instead of taking her straight to her place, I rev my engine and head toward the next town over. It’s only a twenty-minute ride, and there are a lot more things going on there. Instead of a sketchy downtown, they have a coffee and wine bar, restaurants, and a hoppin’ nightlife.
Honestly, both she and the bar should have opened their businesses there.
They would probably have done better. It’s an old town, a ghost town type place, with haunted buildings, bed-and-breakfasts, and plenty to see and do if you’re into that touristy shit.
Which I have a feeling she is very much into.
Pulling up in front of the Irish pub restaurant, McClintock’s, I kill the engine. She hops off my bike, and I throw my leg over to join her.
“What are we doing here?”
Turning my head, I look up at the pub, then back to her. “Dinner and maybe a few drinks.”
“You took me all the way here for dinner?” she asks.
“It was only twenty minutes, sweetness.”
I’m confused as fuck. I’m not sure why she would think that this was some big deal. The guys and I come out here all the time. It’s just one town over. It’s not like it’s even a day trip. It’s more of a jaunt if I had to describe it.
“Yeah, but I haven’t even been here since I was a kid. I don’t have a car.”
I almost ask her if anyone has ever brought her here, like even her parents, but then I remember her brother and assume her parents are more like him and less like her. Reaching out, I take her hand and squeeze it gently.
“Well, you’re here now. This place has some good food, and then we can do whatever the fuck you want. We can take the ghost tour if you want to.”
Her eyes widen, and her lips part in awe before she speaks. “There’s a ghost tour?” she asks on a whisper.
Leaning forward, I touch my lips to the corner of hers. “Yeah, sweetness,” I murmur. “There’s a fuckin’ ghost tour.”
The music is playing loud as we walk into the pub. They’ve got a live singer tonight. She’s strumming her guitar and wailing away on a country tune. The hostess asks how many, and when I tell her two, she smiles and jerks her head as she walks toward the back of the pub.
I’m glad we’re a ways away from the music, not that it’s bad or anything, but because I want to be able to talk with Shawn a bit.
I want to learn more about her. She intrigues me in more than one way, and I’m ready to discover all there is to know about her, and then maybe tonight, she’ll let me fuck her.
And if she doesn’t, I’ll keep working on her because I’m here for the chase. Although, I don’t know how I’m going to feel once I’ve caught her. Will I get bored? Will I be done with the whole thing? Or will I want to keep her all for myself?