Sugar Rush (Offensive Line #1) (9 page)

LILLY

November 12th

Mad Batter Bakery

Los Angeles, CA

“He seriously hasn’t called?” Rona asks, her voice disappointed.

I laugh, squeezing red frosting from the bag onto a row of cupcakes. “You’re
seriously
surprised by that?”

“Yeah, a little. I thought he was into you.”

“He was into trying to get laid. I’m sure he has plenty of other numbers in his phone he can use for that purpose. Willing girls. Ones that aren’t frigid.”

She glowers at me. “You’re not gonna let that go, are you?”

“Let it go? Really? Is that a
Frozen
reference? ‘Cause we’re both frigid?”

“Dude, don’t be a bitch.”

I smile. “I can’t help it.”

“Clearly.” She sighs, looking around the kitchen. “Do you have things under control here? Can I go open the doors?”

“Yeah, we’re ready. Holler if you need help with the register.”

“You got it.”

Rona disappears through the swinging doors to head to the front. I finish another row of cupcakes, finding my rhythm and zoning out blissfully when she shouts to me.

“Lilly!”

I squeeze the bag too hard. Red frosting coats my left hand.

“Shit,” I mutter. I grab a rag and run for the front. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

Rona is standing by the door, her hand holding back the curtain just enough for her to peek through. She doesn’t look back at me. Instead she gestures wildly for me to come to the window.

I mimic her stance on the next curtain down, pulling it back only slightly.

“Holy fuck,” I whisper.

She hits me hard on the back. “Right? Oh my God!”

There’s a line of people as far as I can see. Almost all of them are women, but there are a few guys mixed in. Most of them are wearing Kodiak gear.

I step back from the window, letting the blind fall flat. “Holy crap, he did it, didn’t he? He actually told the press about us.”

Rona jumps up and down happily. “I knew he would! And he did it because he likes you, you whore!”

I feel myself starting to smile. It’s a traitorous feeling. So is the blush that creeps unbidden onto my cheeks.

“What are we going to do?” I ask her, avoiding this feeling. “We’re going to be slammed. Can we call John or Gina to come in and help out?”

“Gina has classes all morning, but John does his online. We could try to wake him up and talk him into coming in.”

“I’ll call him.”

“Better hurry. It’s almost six and that line looks hungry.”

I go to the back to grab my cell phone. I try not to notice the fact that I still have no missed calls, and I make a quick call to John. He answers tiredly, bitches at me about late band practices and notice and some other ramblings about energy drinks, and then promises to come in soon. When I hang up I run out the backdoor to the alley, dart across the sleepy, empty street, and stand in front of the abandoned Blockbuster building. From here I can see our store and the line of people waiting outside it. It’s long. It spans three other storefronts on top of our own. I shake my head in amazement, snap a quick picture, and run back inside the kitchen.

I attach the picture to a post on the bakery’s Facebook page telling the world that we’ve caught Kodiak Fever.

Before I can think it through, I tag Colt Avery’s page.

I stow my phone, take a bracing breath, and go out front to unlock the doors with Rona.

The next five hours are a blur. We sell out of a lot of our hottest items, nearly every flavor of the Käsebrezel. When John shows up we put him on register so Rona and I can go to the back and make more. Those sell out too, so we make more. An hour later they’re gone. Eventually we have to stop making them because we run out of cheese. We look outside to check the line periodically and it seems like it never goes down. It’s like a hydra. Once we serve one person, two more appear in their place. It’s five hours of non-stop sales before the last person is out the door and we’re alone. My ears ring with the silence inside the building.

“Wow,” Rona mutters numbly.

I push my hands through my hair, shoving it away from my face. “Yeah. Holy crap.”

“That was intense. Is that what success feels like?”

“I think so.”

“It’s a rush.”

“I’m exhausted.”

“I’m pumped,” she proclaims with a smile. “I could run a marathon.”

I look at her doubtfully. “I thought we swore off running in middle school when we decided ‘sweat soaked’ wasn’t a good look for us.”

She waves me away carelessly. “It’s a figure of speech. I’m seriously so hyper right now.”

“Then do you mind if I take a break first? I’m spent.”

“Yeah, sure. You should anyway. You got here first.”

“Thanks, Ro.” I stop as I move past her, grabbing her into a quick, awkward hug. “Today is a good day, isn’t it?”

She laughs, rocking me excitedly from side to side. “Today is a great fucking day, Lil. Enjoy it.” When she releases me she slaps me on the ass. “We’ll have to find a way to thank Colt for this. We owe him big.”

“We’ll find a way.”

“You could reconsider sleeping with him,” she suggests.

“Sure. Prostitution is the sensible choice.”

In the back I grab my phone from the office, taking it out to the alley. John is there smoking a cigarette at the far end, deep in the shadows. He raises the burning red embers to me in silent salute before blowing a cloud to the sky. I park on my favorite pallet and check my messages.

My heart skips a beat when I find a text from Colt.

You want me to come down and handle crowd control?

He sent the message twenty minutes ago.

My fingers hover over the keys, my heart hammering in my throat.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

We’re good, thanks. And I mean that seriously – THANK YOU! From both of us.

He answers me immediately, sending my blood flying.

Anytime. Are you girls busy Saturday night?

That depends.

I figured. I’m throwing a party at my place. You should come by. Both of you.

What kind of a party?

It’s a bris. Domata’s getting his balls cut off.

That’s not how a bris works.

Tell it to his girlfriend. Will you be there?

We’ll try to make it.

I hope you do. Here’s the address.
Later, Hendricks.

He sends me another message with the address in it, but I don’t reply. I sit there staring at it and I wonder if I’ll go. I wonder why I want to.

I wonder what I’ll wear.

COLT

Palmetto Warehouse

Los Angeles, CA

“Who are you texting?” Lowry asks, leaning back into the couch to look at my screen.

I put my hand in his face as I send my address off to Lilly. “No one. Get out of my business.”

“It’s a girl?”

Tyus snorts. “Isn’t it always?”

“Not always,” I argue.

“Let’s break it down then.” Tyus ticks names off on his fingers. “I’m here. Lowry is here.” He thinks for a second before dropping his hands. “That’s it. That’s all the friends you’ve got. If it’s not us you’re talking to and it’s not your mom, it’s a girl.”

I don’t answer him. He doesn’t need me to. Son of a bitch has me dead to rights.

“It’s not Nikki again, is it?” Lowry asks, taking a sip of his beer.

I shake my head. “Nah, that’s done.”

“Since when?”

“Since she came over the other night and I told her we weren’t getting back together.”

Tyus laughs shortly. “Was that before or after she blew you?”

I shake my head. “Didn’t happen.”

“You’re lying.”

“Nope. I thought I was going to sleep with her one last time, but I couldn’t do it. I told her we were finished for good.”

“And you didn’t fuck her?”

“What’d I just say?”

“Nah, man, I’m proud of you if that’s true ‘cause she’ll claim your shit like Christopher Columbus. Violently and against your will. You just got clear of her, man. Don’t do it again.”

“I’m not.”

“Good.”

“So she’s single?” Lowry asks.

I chuckle. “If you think you’re man enough to ride that ride, go ahead. You’re welcome to her.”

He nods his head, looking back to the game on the TV. “I’ll think about it.”

“Better think fast,” Tyus warns him. “She never stays single for long.”

“Yeah, neither does Avery. That’s probably who he was texting. Nikki’s replacement.”

“Lilly,” I tell him, my voice taking on more steel than I intended. I shake out my arm, throwing it over the back of the couch casually. “Her name is Lilly.”

Tyus is looking at me with interest. “Is that the girl from the party? The one you
didn’t
fuck in the closet?”

“Pantry, and yeah. That’s her.”

Tyus doesn’t say anything else about it, but he’s thinking. He’s watching me, and I want to leave to get away from his stare. Dude sees too much.

Three hours later the Saints admit defeat to the Browns. It’s a garbage game between two garbage teams that we’ve already beaten this year, and I’m glad when it’s done. When the guys leave and my apartment is mine again. It was a late game. I started feeling tired toward the end when the clock crept toward ten, but the second I close the door behind them I feel anxious. I feel that energy in my blood that I get when I’m alone.

I hate that feeling. I hate it so much I actually consider playing Russian Roulette with my phone again.

Instead I do something even crazier.

I’m actually nervous as the phone rings. I can’t remember the last time that happened.

She answers on the third ring. “Hello?”

“Are you a dog person?”

Lilly pauses. “Colt?”

“Kat wants to know.”

“Your cat wants to know if I’m a dog person?”

“K-A-T. Kat is a dog. She’s named after Kit Kats.”

“That is so random.”

“It’s not. Kit Kats are my favorite.”

Kat’s ears twitch every time I say her name. She’s going to pounce on me soon if I keep this up.

“Then why wouldn’t you call her Kit?” Lilly asks.

“Because her name is Kat.”

“Right. Of course.”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“Am I a dog person? Yeah,” she answers amiably. “I love dogs. Cats are okay too.”

“Really?”

“You don’t think so?”

I sit down on the couch next to Kat, running my hand gently over her head. “It doesn’t matter what I think. This is between you and Kat, and Kat hates cats.”

“I feel like you’re making this confusing on purpose.”

“Talking to a dog isn’t easy.”

“Ain’t that the truth.”

I smile. “Kat needs to go for a walk.”

She nudges me with her wet nose.

“Then you better get to steppin’,” Lilly scolds me lightly.

“Do you want to walk with us?”

She hesitates. When she speaks, her rough voice is hesitant and so fucking hot. It’s like it’s concentrated now that I can’t see her, now that her voice is all I have. I can’t get enough of it. “Yes and no.”

“
Will
you walk with us?”

“I doubt I live anywhere near you.”

“I’m gonna text you an address and we’ll meet you there.”

“When did I agree to go? I must have missed it.”

“We’ll see you there in twenty minutes,” I tell her, breezing by her complaint.

“Will there be other people there?”

“Yeah. Kat.”

“Kat’s not people,” she reminds me impatiently.

“Don’t let her hear you say that. Just go to the address. It’s safe, I promise. And we won’t be alone. There’s always someone there.”

She hesitates, drawing the silence out to a painful degree. “I’m trusting you. Is that a bad idea?”

“Would you expect me to admit it to you if it was?”

“No.”

“Then you’re not really trusting me.” I drop my voice seriously, my eyes on the dark wood planks of my floor. “I’m being real with you, Lilly. I’m not real with everyone all the time, but I’m being real with you right now. I just want to walk with you. I want you to meet my dog and hang out. That’s it. And if I suddenly want anything else from you, I’ll tell you. I won’t try to trick you into giving it.”

Another silence. Another eternity.

“Okay,” she agrees softly. “Send me the address.”