So Much More (Made for Love #3) (10 page)

Don’t ever hide those eyes.

“Mmmmmm,” Aria hums, pulling me from my thoughts. I smile at her, watching as she pinches another bite of muffin between her fingers. “You’re right. This is
life
,” she mumbles.

“I know! I’m really going to need those kickboxing classes.”

“Josh’ll kick your ass, but it’s totally—” She stops mid-sentence, her eyes focusing in on something behind me. “Tell me that’s him. Tell me he’s the man behind this foodgasm I’m currently having. Tell me, tell me, tell me!”

I turn to see who she’s looking at, knowing already who I’ll find. Brandon’s restocking the pastry case, Eryn and Tabitha engaging him in conversation as he works. Whatever they’re talking about must be amusing, because his lips are pulled into a smile, revealing his perfect teeth.

Teeth…I wonder what it would feel like to have his teeth sinking into my skin. Would I like that? Something tells me I’d like anything he’d wish to do to my body
.

“Shit,” I grumble, shaking my head and directing my focus back across the table.

“Shit?” she questions, her face broadcasting how crazy she thinks I am in this moment. “More like
fuck.
As in,
fuck you
. As in,
I hope he fucks you
because he’s
hawt!
”

“Aria!” I chastise.

My brain is already starting to fill up with inappropriate thoughts about that man. I
do not
need her help.

“What?” she asks with a shrug. “I’m totally serious. Plus, you know what they say: the best way to get over someone is to get
under
someone else—and
he
is the
perfect
someone else.”

I pull my lip between my teeth, suddenly feeling embarrassed. The truth is, I’ve never been under anyone. The horrifying reality is, that truth is what has my heart flipping me off
yet again!

“Why are you looking at me like that? Why are you giving me virgin eyes right now?”

My mouth falls open and I try to fill it with words, but I can’t figure out what to say.
I mean—virgin eyes? Really?

“Oh, my god. You’re a virgin?” she whispers, leaning toward me across the table. I nod. “Are you saving yourself? For, like, wedding bells and all that jazz?”

I cover my face with my hands as I take a deep breath. I think of Luke. I think of the months we spent together—the months I spent falling in love with him. I think of all the times I told him no and the
one
time I told him yes. I think of that red coat—
that fucking red coat.

For the first twenty-three-and-a-half years of my life, I
was
saving myself for marriage. It’s how I was raised. More than that, I knew that I wanted my first time to be with someone I loved—someone I loved enough to spend forever with. So, while I’ve kissed my fair share of guys, it’s never been more than that. Then I met Luke. I met Luke and I wanted him like I’ve never wanted anyone. I was so scared! Not of him, never of him, but you can’t get your virginity back—I just wanted to be sure he was the right one to give it to.

I had decided. I loved him and he told me he loved me. He told me he wanted me. He told me
how
he wanted me. No one had ever longed for me the way he did and so I changed my mind about waiting…

“Sarah?” Aria murmurs, gently rubbing my arm. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“No, no. It’s not you,” I insist, pulling my hands away from my face. “I just—I don’t know what I’m waiting for anymore.”

“There’s no shame in holding out,” she tells me, the smile on her face easing my embarrassment. “I gave up my V-card when I was sixteen. I wish I had waited. I never would have lasted until I got married, but I’ve got some guys on my list that I wish I didn’t. I have Josh now, though. I love that man so much it hurts sometimes. He’s—
everything
. The way he treats my body, the way he worships it, the way he takes great care in ensuring that I experience the most pleasure possible—
that’s
worth waiting for. So, there’s no shame in being a virgin. No judgment here. I understand if you haven’t found the right person yet.”

“Thanks for saying that.”

“Of course. Although…” I watch as her gaze shifts behind me and her kind smile turns into a mischievous smirk. “He looks like he’d be quite the generous lover. Plus, the man can bake, so you already share one great passion. We’ve established that he’s nice—he gave you this job in, like, five minutes! So, my advice? Don’t rule him out.”

I laugh and shake my head at her. “Right—because sleeping with my boss is such a great idea.”

She giggles and then I change the subject, wanting to talk about something else. We chat for a few more minutes and then she has to head back to work. I’ve still got another half hour on my lunch break, so I pull out my Kindle in search of a distraction. I’m sure I’ll get used to working in close proximity to Brandon and my attraction to him will simmer down, causing my lonely heart to calm itself. Until then, I think it best that I stay faithful to my current book boyfriend. His name is Drew. He’s completely over-protective and he’s got a horrible temper—not to mention we’re currently
not
getting along—but he’ll have to do. Brandon is not an option.

She’s distracting. No matter where I am, no matter what I’m doing, I can’t stop thinking about her and that pink apron. I overhear her when she tells Tabitha that she studied to be a third grade teacher. I can sense the sadness in her voice when she mentions it and quickly shifts the direction of the conversation back onto the subject of Tabitha. I have no clue what happened, why she’s not teaching now, but I can tell she loved it. Seeing her in that apron—I bet she looks smokin’ hot in front of a classroom.

When I feel myself getting hard just thinking about it, I shake the image away.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. No one has ever consumed my thoughts the way she is. Not even Olive.

Olivia.

Olivia kept my heart and my head captive. Even when she wasn’t a part of my life, I wondered about her. I worried about her. I
missed
her,
longed
for her, even while I despised her. The worse part was, she knew it.
She knew it
. It’s that knowledge that gave her the confidence to keep coming back, knowing I wouldn’t be able to deny her anything she asked. It’s that knowledge that compelled her to rent that room at The Archibald—she knows me; she knows what she means to me.

What she
meant
to me
.

With Sarah, it’s different. I’ve known her for a day—my memories of her from the past somehow forgotten—and yet I’m drawn to her like a moth to a fucking flame. I know I can’t have her, I know going after her will bring nothing but trouble, but I want more of her. I want to sit and watch her eat an entire plate of breakfast pastries. I’ve
never
seen a girl consume that many carbs unapologetically. I have no idea where she puts it, but I do know that I love that about her—that she indulges her tastebuds without an ounce of guilt.

“Hey.”

I look up from my desk, shoved into my closet of an office, and spot her leaning against the doorframe, her pink apron in her hands. I like having her here, like the familiarity and ease that accompanies her stance. I don’t hide the smile on my face that says so. “Hi. What’s up?”

“It’s four. I just wanted to check in and see if there’s anything else you’d like for me to do before I head home?”

“Oh,” I mutter, checking the time. I wasn’t paying attention and I’m surprised to learn that it’s so late in the day. “No. You’re good. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Okay,” she says with a smile and a nod. She turns to leave but then stops and steps back into the office. “You've been here since four, right? When do you leave?”

“I usually head out at about nine.”

“
Nine?
You close at nine!” she cries, her brows furrowed in shock.

“Yup,” I say with a nod.

“Wait—are you telling me that you work seventeen hours a day?
Everyday?
”

“Yeah,” I reply, nonchalantly. I know it sounds crazy, but I will never complain. My days may be long, but I’m doing what I love—I’m living the dream. Nobody said living the dream would be easy.

“No wonder you don’t date,”she murmurs.

“Excuse me? Who told you I don’t date?” I ask, spinning my chair so that I’m facing her directly.

Her eyes grow wide in surprise, as if she hadn’t meant to say that out loud. “I’m sorry. Gossip. None of my business.”

I chuckle, because the thought of her talking about my dating life makes me incredibly tempted to prove that theory wrong and ask her out on a date. If I don’t laugh, I’ll do just that. “Don’t apologize,” I insist. “And for the record—I
do
date. When I want to.”

“Right. I’m sure you do. I’m sorry.” She smacks her hand against her forehead as she shakes her head. “Dammit! I’m sorry that I—you know what, I’m just going to stop,” she laughs, looking back at me. “Anyway, it looks like Daphne wasn’t exaggerating when she said you needed the extra help. Are you sure you don’t want me to stay a bit longer? I know I might not be able to do too much, since I’m still in training, but I can stay—”

“No,” I interrupt reluctantly. “You’ve put in a full day. Thanks for offering, though.”

“You know, when I taught, my days were damn near close to seventeen hours, too. I was always taking work home with me.
Always
. Seven and eight year olds are quite the demanding audience and I was constantly trying to find better and more creative ways to keep them engaged.” She draws in a deep breath and I see it—the weight of her confession stealing the light out of those bright blue eyes. “I just mean to say that I’m fully capable of putting in a few extra hours. I’d welcome the familiarity. Think about it.”

I nod, studying her. She’s carrying a secret and I want to know what it is—I want to know what it is so that I can chase it away. All I ever want to see on her face is a smile. Yet, even though her burden seems far from light, she’s offering me more than what I’m asking for. That only makes me like her more. I have no idea how I got to be so lucky, but I’m going to make sure that she doesn’t regret her decision to seek out employment here. Daphne
was
right—I need her. I need
Sarah
.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she says, pulling me from my thoughts. “Have a good night.”

“You, too,” I reply, not at all surprised when I’m disappointed to see her go.

Unknown:
I miss you, angel.

U
NKNOWN
MY ASS!
I
know exactly who that is. Seeing the text light up my screen makes me want to shatter my phone into a
billion
little pieces. And then bake them into a red velvet cake. And then send it to him.

I want him to
Eat. His. Words
.

Dramatic. Yes. I know. But who does he think he is, sending me text messages at midnight? No doubt he had to wait until he was alone. Just thinking about him sitting there, his phone in his hand, wondering whether or not I’ll respond…it makes my blood boil. He might as well abandon the phone, take out his dick, and
pretend
I give two shits about him anymore. He had his chance. He had
me
. Then he threw me away like I meant nothing. He broke my heart and then he
watched
as my entire world fell apart.