“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.