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Thankfully getting back to what I’d been doing before crazy had derailed my afternoon went smoothly, and the only hiccup was when Ben walked by the front window after getting off work. I hadn’t quite had enough time to get over seeing him in the bakery, so I’d overloaded on how sexy he was and had almost fallen out of the window.
Not the impression I wanted to leave him with as he went home, but a smile was better than being ignored.
Hopefully?
It shouldn’t matter.
I hadn’t even known him long enough to be counted as a friend. That needed more than a month to accomplish. I just wasn’t sure how much more. After our first meeting, I’d hoped that a week would give me enough time to calm down and stop being stupid…but that’d been overly optimistic.
Eventually, I’d stop wanting to curl up in his lap and ask him inappropriate questions, right?
It was all those damned ladies’ fault.
If I hadn’t known he might be…interesting, I would’ve been able to move on and stop having a crush on the sexy man who was so far out of my league we weren’t in the same continent, much less the same ballpark.
That probably would’ve made more sense if I knew more about sports but that was just another reason I shouldn’t hold my breath about getting his attention. He was tall and broad and sexy, and his father seemed like the sports and beer on his day off kind of guy. That kind of thing seemed to run in families, but since I was more of a Dungeons and Dragons kind of guy myself, I wasn’t sure we’d have anything in common.
Sadly, my lust for him and his cookies would only take us so far.
But he wasn’t just a typical sexy alpha male with a terrible home life. Those were really a dime a dozen lately, but Bex was…he was different, if the dirty ladies could be believed. If they were right, he definitely had other interests I’d never thought about.
I wasn’t sure if that meant we’d actually have anything in common but at least it seemed creative? Playing pretend was creative. Role-playing came in a lot of different forms. Costumes were creative.
I liked creative things.
Well, I liked some creative things.
I just didn’t know much about the creative things that Bex might like.
He probably wasn’t.
Those ladies were just nosy and had probably gotten confused by…by something. But they’d been so sure when they’d been searching through the books trying to find ones that matched Bex’s interests. I wasn’t so sure reading erotic romance was a good way to learn anything, but they’d seemed so confident.
They might’ve lost their marbles but they hadn’t lost their pairs.
Nope. They had huge ones.
I’d hoped that I’d have figured everything out by the time the window was done, but I still had nothing. No idea what I wanted. No idea what I should do. No idea if they were right. No idea if Bex’s smile meant anything. No idea if I wanted it to mean anything.
I was so confused my brain broke and I found myself standing in front of the dirty book section. Thankfully, Amanda was manning the front and couldn’t see that I was being ridiculous. I was so ridiculous I started looking over the covers and searching for the books the ladies had been giggling over.
And talking about.
Loudly.
They’d been rude, there was no doubt about that, but they’d also given me questions.
Did tails really feel good?
Did people really wear tails?
Yes, I probably should’ve started with that one but the ladies had been certain the tail enjoyment aspect was why a man would want to be a pup. I wasn’t even going to think about what they’d said about the prostate, but they’d been very confident.
They’d also said submissives were cute and they completely understood why Bex wanted one. I still wasn’t sure how they knew that, but again, they’d sounded like they knew what they were talking about.
They had me so mixed up I took a few pictures of some of the books I knew talked about…tails…and submissives…and Doms.
Was Bex really a Dom?
I still hadn’t figured any of it out as I left for the day and I was pretty sure I left work with more questions than when I’d started. They were just running around in circles in my head, getting more and more insistent with every lap.
Coming home usually made me relaxed and happy, because while it was tiny, it was filled with blankets and pillows and soft, soothing colors that the decorating websites had been right about. I loved my little slice of heaven but none of that seemed to matter at the moment.
“Fine. Moron.” I gave up, heading over to the couch and grabbing my Kindle. “You should be working. You have to finish that edit.”
