Fuck this. I’ve had enough girl talk for one night.
With a heavy head and an exhausted mind, I hop off the counter, polishing off the rest of my wine and setting the glass in the sink. “I’m going to take a shower and go to bed. I can’t think about this anymore tonight.”
I wave a limp hand in the direction of my two roommates as I pad across the condo.
Billy starts to say something but I shake my head, cutting him off before I escape into my room.
Morning comes too soon after I close my eyes, and because of the restless night’s sleep I’m suffering from, I arrive late to work for the first time in three years. Luckily, having chatty Cathy as my roommate pays off for me and I don’t get much of an earful from Dylan when I step inside the bakery.
I’m sure she has been adequately filled in on the night I had.
“Sorry. Sorry. It won’t happen again. I promise,” I say, reemerging from the kitchen after setting my purse down. I secure my unruly hair up into a pony and step behind the counter. “I don’t think you want me doing any detailed piping work today. I’m running on about five minutes of sleep.”
Dylan drops her head into a nod as Joey finishes up with a customer. “That’s fine. Man the front with Joey. I need to be off my feet today anyway so I’m going to stay in the back. I can work from a stool.”
“Are you feeling okay?” I watch her close her eyes through several slow, deep breaths.
My gaze shifts to the shop phone hanging on the wall.
Even though I’ve never had a reason to call it, I was forced to memorize Reese’s work number when Dylan was first pregnant with Ryan. I wonder how quickly he could get over here if I called him right now.
I imagine before I have the chance to hang up.
The door chimes as the customer exits the bakery, and Joey comes to stand beside Dylan, resting a hand on her shoulder.
“I’m fine. It’s not contractions or anything,” she reassures, looking back at him and then pressing two fingers to the inside of her wrist. “I’m just feeling anxious for some reason. I think I should take it easy today.”
“Then get your pretty little ass in the back, cupcake. I’m not dealing with that man of yours if you go into early labor due to work-related stress. I’m sure he’ll somehow blame that shit on me.” He guides her in the direction of the kitchen with a gentle push, then comes to stop beside me, dropping his head next to mine.
“Mason missed you at the coffee shop this morning,” he murmurs. “I told him you were up late hitting the sauce.”
“Did you really?” I glare at him as he leans away.
That’s just what I need, Mason thinking he drove me to alcoholism. He’s so fucking sweet he’ll probably pay for my rehab.
He smiles. “No. I said you had to do an early delivery this morning and skipped the coffee. He seemed to buy it.”
I gaze through the shop window. “I know I just got here but . . .”
“But you need to go talk to him.”
Our eyes lock. I nod at his spot-on remark, rubbing my hand down my face. “I’m just so fucking confused, and I need sleep, Joey. My skin doesn’t do well without it. I’m going to start looking like I’m in my thirties.”
“Heaven forbid.” Joey steps back and leans his hip against the counter, exaggerating his stare the longer I look at him. “Go, before Dylan comes back up here and discovers you’re missing.”
“Right.”
I slip behind him and grab an empty bakery box, filling it with four cupcakes.
“Shut up,” I snap when I hear Joey’s breathy laugh behind me.
It’s just because I need something to hold when I’m talking to Mason, otherwise I’ll reach for him, hold his face, try and slip my fingers through his hair and feel his soft curls.
There will be none of that happening.