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CHAPTER SEVEN
Snacking and Packing
Lexi
Okay, so that happened.
I kissed Grant. I more than kissed Grant. And he kissed me.
At the beginning of the day I thought he was an unobtainable fantasy. I figured I’d never see him again and the tale of me being stuck in an elevator with him would become a fun story I told when drunk with friends. My fifteen minutes of fame or my one degree of separation tale.
But an hour ago, all of that was blown out of the water. Grant wanted me. He’d kissed me. Like, really kissed me. I’d felt all of him, wrapped myself around him like a monkey and held on for one of the most explosive moments of my life.
Even now, sitting in my car, recalling every detail of our encounter I can’t really believe it. A giggle escapes me and I cover my grin with my hands. Oh my God!
He wanted to see me again too. If my seatbelt hadn’t pinched me when I clicked it in on the way home, I would still think I’m dreaming. Because there was no way this could be happening to me.
How did asking him about who was going to eat his donuts lead me to this? That sounds really dirty, actually. Maybe I can see why he lost all control and grabbed me. Just thinking of his strong hold was making my cheeks heat.
“No,” I say out loud, pulling myself out of the memory of my sensitive nipples brushing his chest. I pulled myself away for a reason, I couldn’t overthink this.
He has my number. It doesn’t mean anything. He could’ve felt obligated to ask again after our hot makeout. Didn’t mean he was actually going to call.
Ack! I hope he calls.
I shouldn’t, I know. He is a high-profile celebrity, followed by millions. I can’t start anything with him. Even though I know he’s a good man, with the best of intentions. Nothing serious between us can form. Hockey is his main priority, his career and dream. I’m just some girl that caught his eye.
My mind whirling, I throw my head back against the headrest. Closing my eyes, Grant and his tempting, pink kissable lips appear. I will be dreaming of those lips for nights to come. The way his work hard hands felt on my stomach and the hardness of his thighs. Ahh, I can’t have these tormenting thoughts in my head! I need to act normal. Well, okay,myversion of normal. If I walk into the apartment with even a smidge of an image of Grant in my mind, Luna will catch on. She will know something is up.
Giving my whole body a wild shake, I dance all the butterflies right out of my system. Climbing from the car, I grab the bag of supplies that I took from BBR and make my way into the apartment complex. There is no security in my building and barely any working security cameras. We don’t live in the best neighborhood but when I moved Luna across town eight years ago I’d tried my best. Our building was safe, close to a good public school and our block was relatively crime free. The area just looks really rundown.
I stop short when I see yellow tape crisscrossed over one of the two elevators. You have got to be kidding me. Again? It was a running joke between Luna and me that only one elevator has ever worked since the day we moved in. We’ve lived in this building going on eight years and only once that I can recall – it was a frigid February morning – had both elevators been working. It’s a huge inconvenience most of the time. This week though, after being trapped in one and then playing tonsil hockey with Grant, I was fine to take the stairs. I needed to work off some extra energy.
The stairwell door creaked as I hip bumped it open and leaped my way up eight flights of stairs. When I reach my floor, I have the perfect disguise to fool my sister. An out of breath hot mess. She would never question my red cheeks now. Luna knew the stairs and I were enemies. I may workout from time to time but stairs are the devil.
“Lu-Lu! I’m home!” I shout into the apartment as the door swings open.
“Be right out,” she sings back from her room.
Shuffling over to the kitchen, I dump the bags on the counter and begin unloading them. Harrison had also given me one of the cupcakes to use as a color guide. That was brave on his part. Sweets don’t last long in the Lee-Anderson household, even if they are for work purposes. I could probably memorize these shades and eat...No! I can’t think like that.
“There is a cupcake in the kitchen that has been poisoned. We can’t eat it. I repeat, we cannot eat the cupcake.” I proclaim to Luna then begin making siren sounds. I place the dessert on top of the microwave – a place of extreme honor – and gazed at it in adoration.
“What the hell?” She makes a grand exit from her room, clad in rainbow leggings and the matching shirt. It almost hurts to look at her.
“You heard me.”
Luna snorts at my attempt to curb our sweet tooth, shaking her head as she plops down in a kitchen chair. Crossing her legs, she points to the supplies I’m lying out. “What’s with those?”
“The sprinkles on the poisoned cupcake don’t match. I told Harrison I could make better ones.”
“Oh! You’re going to make sprinkles! That’s so cool. I didn’t know you could make homemade sprinkles.”
“Young grasshopper, you can make anything at home.” I get an eye roll for that one. “But yes, I will be making sprinkles while you’re off serving hot plates and cobbler.”
“You’re in a weirdly happy mood.”
Oh crap. I’m being too witty. I need to tone it down, change the subject. “Just a good day at work. Cassidy is still working from home in the morning, so I got to skip some of that drama today.”
