CRUSH
Raven
FROM THE SOUND of things, or lack thereof, Jitters is finally winding down for the night. Only occasional murmurs reach me in the kitchen as I toss ingredients into the processor. My stainless-steel oasis is a welcome change of pace after a day spent in the hustle and bustle.
But being back here alone has one serious disadvantage.
My mischievous mind roams straight to delicious desires that are very bad for me. And I don’t mean indulging in extra sugary treats. No, I’d gladly accept those tasty temptations.
While my hands get busy baking, my brain has me leaping directly into Trey’s arms. In the days since our last confrontation, I’ve stopped fighting the inevitable and allowed my imagination to run free. There’s no real harm done, aside from my body demanding I accept his proposition.
Yeah, there’s that. No biggie.
My interest has been magnified since I saw a crack in his harsh exterior. It was slight and gone in an instant, but I caught it. That hint had flutters wracking my belly and made me a tad light-headed. All from a tiny glimmer. It gives me faith that Trey is far more than he pretends to be.
Splashes of guilt tint the layers of lust as I recall my careless mention of Trey’s family. I didn’t mean to share my knowledge as part of our argument. I’d only wanted to thank him for the ride, but our conversation escalated beyond reason. Before I knew it, Trey had me pinned and kept pushing until I snapped.
With a soft hum, the mixer churns to life and my thoughts spin watching the smooth cycle. I planned to tell Trey about my dad, but his mood swings held me back. The words were forming on my lips before he went back to hitting on me, and the moment for sharing faded away. He’d probably assume I was looking for pity or sympathy, like he accused me of giving him. I’ll tell Trey when he’s willing to listen and not slinging insults my way.
I start whipping the frosting, the whisk a blur as my wrist spins rapidly. A heavy sigh escapes as I calculate the numerous batches that need to be made. I can’t afford to be so distracted, especially when Delilah is counting on me. Trey and his unpredictable behavior can wait.
“Rave?”
I startle and almost drop the mixing bowl as my eyes leap to Delilah. “Jeezus, you scared the crap outta me!” I exclaim with a palm to my pounding chest.
She snickers. “What were you thinking about? You’ve got that faraway look going on.”
My cheeks heat as visions of Trey flicker before me. I wipe them away. “Nothing much. Just trying to plan for this weekend.”
She crosses her arms, staring me down. “Uh, huh. What’s your deal lately? I was standing here for several minutes while you kept stirring away. Pretty sure that frosting is blended extra smooth.”
Glancing down, I confirm her suspicion. No lumps in sight. While I’d been daydreaming, my hands were working on autopilot.
“Uh.” I stammer and search for a reasonable explanation. “I’m a bit frazzled trying to get everything done. I haven’t been sleeping well either.” Both are true, but not due to the upcoming event.
“Do you need help?”
“No, no. I’ll be fine.”
Delilah doesn’t look convinced. “Well, Garden Graze starts Friday. That’s two days away,” she reminds me unnecessarily.
I start stirring again, but stop when her brow rises at my movements. “I can’t help it. You’re making me nervous,” I complain.
“Dude, get your head in the game.”
I push the bowl away and rest my palms on the table. “Tell me about this shindig again. Talking business will help me focus.”
She walks into the room and hops onto the counter beside me. The strong aroma of coffee accompanies her, and I take a greedy whiff. Trey’s brown eyes appear in the rich scent, proving I can’t escape him. Delilah clears her throat, drawing my focus to her.
“Sorry,” I mumble. “Told you I was preoccupied.”
She squints at me and smiles. “You’re a nut, but we’ll discuss that later. So,” she starts and holds up her palms, “Garden Graze marks the beginning of summer. Food booths are set up along Main Street, either from restaurants or home-baked goodies. They’re not picky about vendors. Pay the fee and you’re golden. That allows for a wide variety to please any appetite. City slickers arrive in droves for our traditional festivities that their fancy metropolis doesn’t host. This is where small towns shine,” Delilah says with a gleaming grin.
“Spoken like a true local.”
“Damn straight. Born and raised. I left for college, which was enough big world experience to cure my curiosity. I’m meant to be here, with my people.”
I plop my chin on my palm. “Pretty sure I am too.”
“Absolutely, Rave. You fit right in. Everyone loves you.”
Heat stings my eyes. “You know it’s more than that though. After my dad died, my mom couldn’t sit still. She bounced us from place to place, always searching for something. Still hasn’t found it,” I mutter quietly. “Growing up, I never had a house to call home. I didn’t bother growing roots or getting attached because soon enough, we’d be leaving again. I’ve never had that sense of belonging, you know?”
Delilah nods with a soft smile, and I give her one in return.
“Whenever you talked about Garden Grove and your inclusive life, I was jealous. Listening to you describe exactly what I’d always wanted was the biggest tease. Probably explains why you didn’t have to try hard to convince me to move here. After only a month, this feels more like home than anywhere else I’ve lived. This town is a little slice of magic.”
She claps happily and bounces in place. “See? You totally get it. This lifestyle isn’t for everyone, but I knew you’d appreciate it. Gah, that little story almost made me cry.”
I laugh at her pout. “Me too, D. I’m so happy we got stuck together freshman year.”
“And now we’re roomies again.” Delilah squeezes my shoulder. She glances at the abandoned bowl. “So, what’s the latest flavor? You still planning to roll out several new recipes for The Graze?”
I nod. “Yup. This is one of them.”
Her nose wrinkles. “It looks like grease.”
I gasp. “Really?”
“Is that a good thing? I can’t tell for sure by your reaction.”
A chuckle bubbles from me. “In this case, yes. The entire design will be dark and grungy. I’m calling these cupcakes Dirty Mechanic. It’s a blend between black licorice, chocolate, and gingerbread.” Delilah gapes, blinks slowly, and doesn’t speak. “What?” I ask. “Do I have something on my face?” Her reaction is expected, but I pretend to be clueless for fun.
“Seriously, Rave?”
I shrug. “People will get a kick out of it. They’re an acquired taste that only certain people will enjoy. Just like, you know, our favorite town asshole.”
“Wow,” she snorts. “That’s fucking brilliant.”
“Right? I was trying to get creative.”
“Trey will be flattered,” Delilah deadpans.
“Will he be there?” I don’t bother masking the hope in my voice.
She rolls her eyes. “You poor girl. Never stood a chance. You might as well sleep with him and get it over with.”
My heart skips a beat. “You think so?”
“Have you been waiting for my permission? Your face just lit up like Christmas morning.”
I cringe. “It would be nice to know you won’t judge me too poorly.”
“Are you that hard up, Rave? Slumming it with Trey is a bad idea.”
“Or maybe the best one ever.”
She smacks her face. “Ugh, you’re ridiculous. I was mostly joking, but clearly this is happening.”
“He’s so hot,” I whisper. “My lady bits practically whimper whenever he’s around. I can’t even handle how gorgeous he is.”
“Gross, I don’t wanna hear that.”
“Oh, whatever. You can admit it. This is a safe space,” I say and pat her arm.
“Uh, huh. Sure, he’s good-looking, but I’d never be attracted to him. I know him too well.”
“Meh, I’m rooting for him being misunderstood.” I point to myself. “Hopeful optimist.”
“More like hopeless,” she quips. “Not sure why I bothered dissuading you in the first place. This was clearly going to happen one way or another,” Delilah grumbles. “Trey is such a snake.”
“That’s not super—”
“D, we were in the middle of a conversation,” Addy calls from the hallway. When she reaches the doorway and sees me, a smile lifts her lips. “Hey, Raven! I didn’t know you were back here. Is the slave driver keeping you busy?” She strides over to us and leans against the counter.
Delilah snorts. “Hardy-har-har. Rave would have been done by now without all the daydreaming.” I flick her arm, and she giggles. “Our girl has a lady-boner.”
“Oooh,” Addy says, wagging her brow. “Do tell.”
“I didn’t know this would be a group discussion,” I say.
Delilah scoffs. “Puh-lease. Addy knows Trey better than me. Maybe she’ll shake some sense into you.”
Addison gasps, and her eyes widen on me. “No! You like Trey? When did this happen?”
“I don’t know,” I mutter. “I can’t stop thinking about him. And after our last battle at Jacked Up—”
“Wait. You went to his garage?” Addy asks, and I nod. “Alone?” she adds.
“Yes.” My eyes flicker between them.
Delilah says, “I told her not to, but Miss Independent over here wanted to handle her car trouble alone. Sounds like there was another issue under the hood you want looked at.”
Addy giggles and offers Delilah a high-five. “Good one.”
“You guys act like Trey is dangerous or something.”
My friends share a look, and I continue defending him. “He wouldn’t physically hurt me. Sure, Trey is a jerk and has a slight temper but he’s fairly harmless. As an outsider, I think his behavior is justified to a certain extent.”
They wear matching expressions, creased foreheads and pinched lips.
“Seriously, guys. Don’t worry so much. It’s not like I’m going to fall in love with him. I probably won’t gather the guts to do more than make desserts in his honor.”
“I think Trey brainwashed her,” Addy murmurs from the side of her mouth.
“Wouldn’t put it past him,” Delilah agrees.
“Ugh, stop. Honestly, I’d really like to talk to him more. There’s so much left unsaid, and I want to finish the sentences he cut off. I’d like to tell Trey about my dad, even if he doesn’t care. I chickened out after bringing up his family.” They both suck in sharply. “I know, big mistake. He made it perfectly clear that topic was off limits.”
Addy clears her throat. “Well, maybe you’re the one who’ll knock sense into him. There’s been a few rumors.”
“Regarding . . . ?” I prod.
“The regulars at Dagos haven’t seen Trey with another woman since you’ve been around. He’ll stop by with the guys for some beers but leave alone. Surly as ever though. I can vouch for that,” she tells me. Goosebumps rise on my arms at her explanation, but I smooth the sensation away. Trey’s dry spell is pure coincidence, of course.
Delilah slides off the table. “And the plot thickens,” she says and wiggles her fingers. “He looked pretty cozy with some broad a few weeks ago, but we put the kibosh on that.”
Addy laughs. “I heard about that. The girl went home with Dylan but didn’t put out. Sucks for him.”
“He’s a schmuck,” Delilah says and looks at me. “You haven’t met him yet but count it as a blessing. Dylan will hit on you relentlessly.”
“Ah, fun times. I have enough boy trouble as is. Thanks for the warning,” I respond.
“Not like you’ll listen,” she sasses back.
I roll my eyes. “I’ve got Trey handled. Or will soon.”
“He’s going to have a bite of your cupcake this weekend and be done for,” Delilah says. “I wanna watch. Please make sure I’m around.”
“You’re a bit diabolical. Why haven’t I ever noticed?”
Delilah wraps her arm around me. “You’ve been too taken with my shining personality all these years. I’ve got a devious side. That’s why I’m still single. No man can keep up with me.”
“Is that the reason? I was starting to wonder,” I tell D.
She sticks her tongue out. “Biatch, you better get back to work. Those cupcakes won’t bake themselves. Wouldn’t want to disappoint Trey.” Delilah looks at Addison. “Her extra special batch is called Dirty Mechanic.”
“That’s precious,” Addy coos. “I’m getting on board with this plan. Even though he’s an ass, I want him to have some good. You could be that for him.”
I laugh. “Don’t go writing a happily ever after. Pretty sure this isn’t that type of tale.”
“You never kno-ow,” she sing-songs.
My chest expands with a deep breath, but I don’t let any hope for more float in. If anything happens with Trey, it’ll be quick and filthy. There’s no doubt in my mind about that.