“Who?” I question, because all those guys have been working there since Zay started, and that was back in high school. I know all of them now.
“You don’t know him,” he says quickly.
I tilt my head in confusion. “I know everyone there.”
“Well, you never met this guy,” he says, frustrated.
“Okay, what’s with the attitude? I’m only asking.”
He raises his shoulders. “I feel like I’m being accused of something.”
“What?” I exclaim, setting the cloth down. “How so?”
He curls his lips; his jaw is hard set. “Asking all these questions.”
I’m confused by his reaction and harsh voice. Why is he freaking out? My mind runs through some possibilities, but nothing matches up. I search his face for answers, but all I see is anger. Did I say something wrong? Is there more to this than he is letting on?
“There is no reason for you to act like this toward, me,” I say, crossing my arms in frustration because now I’m a little upset.
“Then don’t accuse me of something. I haven’t done anything,” he spits out.
“I’m not,” I say, raising my voice a little higher. I’m hardly the type to accuse anyone of anything—I always try to see the good in people. So his accusations take me by surprise. He groans, turns his back to me, and stomps off to the other room.
What the fuck was that? Did he have a bad day and take it out on me? He’s done it before. We all do this, whether we recognize it or not. I throw whatever it was out of my mind because I had agood day today and he’s not going to ruin my night with his bad attitude.
My alarm clock goes off, waking me from my sleep. I grab my phone, switching it off. Rolling back onto my back, I notice the sun shining through the curtain and squint my brows in confusion. I look over my shoulder and see the bed is empty. Where is Zayn? His alarm always wakes me up at six. He gets up early and hits the gym every morning before work. I set my alarm just in case I fall back asleep. How did I not hear his alarm?
I went to bed later than usual because I sat out in the living room reading. I always read in bed until I get tired. But after last night, I gave Zay his space and, to be honest, I wanted space from him too. I’m such a light sleeper that even if I fall back asleep after his alarm goes off, I always wake up from it.
A yawn erupts, and I stretch my arms overhead before slipping out of bed. I head for the bathroom and start the shower all the way on hot. I let the bathroom warm up with steam and head to my office to see what orders I need to bake today. As I pass by the kitchen, last night’s conversation with Zayn slips into my mind. What set him off? I was only asking questions. The same questions I’m sure any girlfriend or wife would ask.
Pushing his odd behavior aside, I wait for my laptop to come to life. I read over Haley’s order. She is my number one customer aside from the cafés I bake for. She comes to me for every holiday, birthday, or event she has going on. I’m not sure what this lady does, but she seems to always have something happening. She loves that I deliver everything to her—for a fee, of course. She says it helps her tremendously, not having to worry about finding time to pick up her desserts. Today she ordered twenty-four strawberry cupcakes with buttercream frosting and twenty-four double chocolate cupcakes with fudge frosting. What is she doing to need all these cupcakes?
After doing a short meditation in the shower, I put on lavender-colored leggings with a beige tank top. Throw my hair up into a bun and start Haley’s order.
I get lost in the day while RUFUS DU SOL blares in the background. I reach down, setting a couple of loaves of bread in the oven, trying to get ahead of schedule, when all of a sudden, warm hands wrap around my hips. I abruptly stand up tall while swinging my hand back and clashing it onto someone. My whole body shakes as I turn all the way around and notice it’s Zay.
My eyes flare wide as I bring my hands to his face. “Oh my God, Zay. I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” I ask while comforting his cheek. “Alexa, turn off,” I yell, and the music stops. My heart thumps in my chest.
His eyes squint while he nods his head.
“I didn’t hear you come in.” I step back, glancing at him.
He drops his hand from his face. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have walked up to you like that.”
I wince at the red mark appearing on his cheek. “Are you okay?”
He gives me a dead stare. “Yes. You couldn’t hurt me if you tried. I’m too strong,” he says sarcastically.
“Oh really? Should I try again?” I say with my hands on my hips.
He steps back. “If you can catch me.” And then he takes off running.
I follow behind him, passing our living room, skipping a step at a time while we race up the stairs. Our laughter echoes through the house. He runs into the room, jumps on the bed, and lands on his back. I halt my steps when I notice he’s not in his work clothes.
“Wait. When did you take your work clothes off?” He has on his gym shorts and a black t-shirt.
He lifts his arms behind his head, resting his head on the back of his hands. “I changed in the laundry room while you were jamming out to your music.” He pauses. “You shouldn’t play it that loud if you can’t hear. What if someone breaks in?”
