Sweet Addiction (21 page)

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Can you meet me, like
right now, sweets? I really need to talk to someone and I want it to be you.”
She sounds upset. Juls never sounds upset.

“Yeah of course.
Where?”

“The coffee shop on
West Elm okay?  I’m only five minutes away.”

“Okay, I’m leaving
now.”

I hang up and dress
quickly, grabbing my keys and locking up behind me as I dash around the corner
where I keep Sam parked. Juls’ voice is really worrying me and I want to get to
her as fast as I can. She’s never upset. Her two favorite emotions are elated
happiness which is frequent lately after Ian came into her life, and pissed off
hurricane Juls mode. The drive to Brocks Coffee Shop is a short distant from
the bakery and I park behind her black escalade, hopping out quickly and
dashing into the building. I spot her at a table in the corner, her dainty
hands wrapped around a coffee cup.

“Hey. Sorry if you’ve
been waiting long. Fucking traffic.”

“No, I just sat down.
Do you want something to drink?” Typical Juls always concerned about other
people and not what’s bothering her. God love her for it.

“No, I’m fine. What’s
wrong? You sounded upset on the phone.”

She glances down into
her mug. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Ian and I went out yesterday after
I dropped you off and checked out some wedding venues and reception halls, and
I just didn’t care. Like at all. I mean, what the fuck? I’ve been dreaming
about my wedding day since I was six.” Her eyes fill up with tears as she turns
them up to me. I reach over and cover her hand with mine. “I love weddings,
everything about them. That’s why I became a wedding planner. But when it comes
to my own wedding, it’s like I have zero opinion about anything. I don’t care
whether or not we get married in a church or if it’s an outdoor ceremony, I
don’t care what music I walk down the aisle to or what favors the guests will receive
or what my cake looks like, no offense.”

 My lips curl up
into a smile. “None taken.”

“I don’t even care who
the hell is invited. All I care about is marrying him. As long as Ian’s there,
that’s
all
I care about.” She blinks and her tears fall down her cheek.
“Dylan, honestly, do you think there’s something wrong with me?”

I laugh softly and
shake my head. “No, not at all. I think you’re focusing on the
only
thing that matters. Who cares about everything else?” My hand squeezes hers and
she smiles. “I kind of love that marrying Ian is the only thing that matters to
you, because it’s the only thing that
should
matter. You’re going to
spend the rest of your life with this man who clearly worships the ground your
pretty little feet walk on, so who gives a shit what the fucking centerpieces
look like or what the dinner options are for the guests. Fuck the guests.” She
bursts out laughing and shakes her head at me and most likely herself for
thinking this way. Although, I am a little shocked that she doesn’t have a few
things she’s dead set on.

“I love you, Dylan. You
really are the only person that understands me.”

Leaning back, I cross
my legs under the table. “Well and Ian I’m sure. So what does he say about all
this?”

She takes a quick sip
of her coffee. “He keeps saying ‘whatever you want, babe’ which would be
perfect if I had any opinions at all. I kind of wish he would just take over
and make all the decisions because if he leaves it up to me, nothing’s going to
get done. Except my dress choice of course.”

“Of course, and what a
dress. Does that thing even need to be altered because it fit you perfectly?”

“Hmmm so did yours,
both of them.” She pulls out her phone and swipes the screen a few times before
handing it over.

I glance down at the
picture of me staring at my reflection in the lace halter dress.
Jesus, it
looks good.
“I should make you delete this in front of me.” I hand her back
her phone.

“Not a chance in hell.”
She slips it back away, quickly so I don’t grab it and delete it myself I’m
sure. “What’s new with Reese? You heard from him since the picture incident?”

My stomach knots up and
I sigh loudly, rubbing my hands down my face. “No, not a peep. But I guess the
distance is good right now. We really shouldn’t be attached at the hip.”

“Dylan.”

I glance up at her
serious face. “Julianna.” I never call her by her full name and can barely say
it without smiling.

She rolls her eyes.
“Are you in love with him?”

I lean my elbows onto
the table and cover my face with my hands.  After a slow exhale, I reply
honestly, “I don’t know. I feel like I’m putting a lot of energy into
not
falling
in love with him, but it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done.” I glance over at
her. “For a guy that normally doesn’t do the relationship thing, I think he’d
be damn good at it. But how stupid would I be to fall in love with someone that
doesn’t do anything serious? I’d just be setting myself up for a major
heartbreak right?” I begin to rub my temples as she fights a smile. “I’ve never
loved any man before. Definitely not Justin. But with Reese? Fuck, I don’t
know.”

She leans forward and
rubs my arm. “Just because he’s never done relationships before or anything
besides casual fucking, doesn’t mean he isn’t capable of doing it. Dylan, for
Christ’s sake. The man is crazy about you. Everyone can see that.”

“He’s crazy about
fucking me.” I glance around quickly to make sure my heightened voice didn’t
draw any unwanted attention. “That’s all this is.”

“You’re really fucking
stupid if you think that’s true. Just grow a pair and tell him how you feel
already.”

I shake my head at her
and purse my lips as she sips her coffee. Of course Juls doesn’t understand
where I’m coming from here. She and Ian have been more than serious since they
started dating. A thought that’s been running through my mind since Friday
comes streaming back. Why
did
Reese end it with that red headed pyscho?
Was it because she wanted more, that she was in love with him and he didn’t or
couldn’t feel the same way? I can’t help but think the same fate is lined up
for me if I were to let myself fall, so I won’t. I’m going to keep those
unwanted feelings buried deep inside me for now, until maybe he eventually
decides he wants more.
Please God let him want more.

**

I crawled into bed
Sunday night after getting a bite to eat with Juls. We both wanted more than
just coffee in our system and ate at a local Thai place that we frequented
often. I wrapped myself up in my comforter and the University of Chicago
T-shirt that Reese lent me and stared at my alarm clock. It was only a little
after 8:00p.m. and knew I wouldn’t pass out anytime soon, but I was at least
going to try. Closing my eyes, I picture his face, the face I catch him having when
he’s watching me, studying me. Crease in his brow, jaw set, eyes narrowed in on
whatever it is that I’m doing. Always so studious.

 A loud, deafening
crash sends them flying back open.
What the hell was that?
I shoot out
of bed and dash down the stairs, skidding to a stop behind my worktop when I
see a hooded figure standing outside my now shattered glass store front through
the doorway. “Oh shit.” Panic, sheer panic runs through me and I dash back
upstairs, grab my phone off my nightstand, and begin dialing the only person I
can think of.

“Pick up pick up pick
up.” I dart into my bathroom and close and lock the door behind me.
Jesus
Christ! Someone’s broken into my bakery! Who the fuck breaks into a bakery?
After
three long rings, I hear his voice.

“Dylan?”

“Reese! Someone’s in my
shop! I heard a loud crash and ran downstairs and---”

“Where are you? Are you
safe?” His voice is filled with worry and I can tell he’s on the move.
Oh
God, please be at your place and not far from me.

“I’m in my bathroom.
They broke the window and I saw someone.” I hear commotion, a lot of commotion
through the phone as I crawl into my bathtub and close the shower curtain.
Like
that’s going to do any good if they decide to break into the bathroom.
This
is so horror movie cliché I almost roll my eyes at myself.
  “Please, I
need you.” I cry, dropping my head between my knees and letting myself sob.

“Stay in there. Don’t
come out no matter what you hear. GOD DAMN IT. SHIT.” Echoes of footsteps ring
through the phone and he’s out of breath but his curse words keep flying. “I’m
on my way. Call the police.”

“NO. Please don’t make
me hang up.” I’m crying, shaking with fear and my words are broken and
strained. I hear the sound of a car starting.

“Fuck. Move the fuck
out of the way!” Car horns and another string of cuss words come through the
phone as I clutch it tightly. “Love, you have to call the police. I’m almost
there. I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise. Just hang up and call
them and then call me back okay?”

“Okay, okay. Please
hurry.”

“I am.”

I quickly hang up and
dial 911, rapidly telling them the situation and giving them my location. They
tell me that the police are on their way and to stay where I am. That’s not
going to be a problem. I have zero intention of moving from this spot until I
hear Reese on the other side of the door, even though I haven’t heard a noise
coming from below me since the sound of the window breaking. I hang up and dial
him again.

“I’m here. Don’t open
the door until I get up there, okay?”

“Okay, but stay on the
phone with me.” I hear his heavy breathing and the sound of glass crunching and
cracking.
God please don’t let that person still be here
. If I hear
Reese getting into a struggle with someone there’s no way in hell I’m staying
in this bathroom, I don’t care what the consequences are. I will claw the
fucker’s eyes out if he puts his hands on Reese. I hear footsteps outside the
door and hold my breath.

“Dylan?”

I drop my phone and
crawl out of the tub, scrambling for the lock and swinging the door open. I
don’t even register his appearance before I jump into his arms and cling to
him. “Oh my God, I was so scared.” I’m holding onto him like I haven’t seen him
in years, my body completely glued to his. “Is he still here?”

His arms wrap me up and
he breathes into my hair, his chest heaving against mine. “Dylan.” I moan
softly at the sound of my name. “It’s okay, I’ve got you. I didn’t see anyone
but your front window is completely smashed to shit.” He carries me away from
the bathroom and into my bedroom area. 

I’m shaking against his
body and tighten my grip. “Jesus Christ. Why would someone break into my
bakery? Do you think they wanted treats?” I hear a small muffled laugh escape
his lips that are pressed into my hair. My tears are streaming down my face as
he places me on my feet in front of my dresser. I look him over and take in his
appearance. Hair a right mess, no doubt from the rough treatment of his hands
as he drove over here, clenched jaw, and prominent crease in his brow. His
green eyes are burning into mine and even though they’re filled with worry,
they still carry the same intensity as always.

“Here, you need to put
on pants before the police get here. They’re going to want to ask you
questions.” He starts rifling through my drawers and I see him taking out
several pairs of pants, tops, and panties.

“Umm, do I need to put
on layers?” I wipe underneath my eyes and finally stop my tears. Now that Reese
is here, I’m no longer scared and the only emotion running through me right now
is elated joy from the sheer sight of him. 

“No, but you’re not
staying here tonight so you need to pack some clothes. I’m taking you home with
me.” He glances over at me as he closes my drawers.

“Okay,” I reply,
picking up a pair of jeans and sliding them up my legs.

“Really? You’re not
going to try and tell me that you could just stay at Juls’ house, or that
you’re not breaking the no sleepover rule again? You’re just going to say
okay?” He looks utterly shocked and I almost laugh.
Jesus, am I that
defiant?

“Yes, I’m not always so
argumentative.” The sound of police sirens flow up the stairs and I quickly
grab a bra and put it on, keeping his T-shirt on in the process.

He notices it and smiles
a bit as he places my things in a nearby duffle bag. “Do you need anything
else?”

I take a quick look
around the room. “Umm, I guess just my bathroom stuff.” I scurry in there and
grab my toothbrush, hairbrush, face wash, moisturizer, phone off the shower
floor, and conditioner because I’m more than happy to use his shampoo and body
wash, spinning to see him standing in the doorway. He’s studying me, eyes
narrowed in on the collection in my hands. “What? I’m a girl and I can’t take
another shower at your place without conditioner. We can’t all have gorgeous no
product necessary hair like you.” His lips curl up as I drop the goodies into
my duffle and follow him down the stairs.

After talking to the
police and giving them my very vague description of the hooded figure standing
outside my shop, they ask me if I know of anyone who might have possibly wanted
to hurt my business or me personally. My eyes quickly flicked to Reese who
clenched his jaw before giving them his ex-receptionist name and information.
He told them about the package I received and claimed that she became unstable
after he stopped seeing her. I had assumed the figure I saw standing outside
was a man because of the dark hoodie covering their face, but I guess it could
have just as easily been a woman. I’m assured that my insurance will cover the
damage, which luckily was only to one of my windows. No damage was done to the
inside of the shop which I was extremely grateful for. The police found a brick
that was used to break the glass that had slid underneath my consultation table
and were going to dust it for prints. I would only have to remain closed for
one day for the window to get repaired so that wasn’t too bad. It could have
been a lot worse. Way worse.