Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

Penn

“All right, Miguel said he has his sister corralled in the stock room, so we have, like, ten minutes tops to get this shit set up,” Archie, my best friend slash co-worker, said as we entered the bar.

The DeVille siblings who owned and worked at the bar were notorious for their over the top birthday battle. According to my mom, they’d been one-upping each other for a decade now. But I never paid attention to stuff like that.

I was always just focused on studying, or baking. I was never the kid who went out and socialized, even when I did live here.

I had to admit though, as an only child a part of me was always envious when I heard stories about siblings having fun at one another’s expense.

It was a small window to get set up, but it was a window still, so instead of dreaming about siblings I’d never have, I focused on the task at hand.

Archie and I could work pretty fast. We’d set up much more elaborate tables than a cake and cupcake bar on the fly.

Will, the DJ, saw us and immediately came over to help Archie and I with our boxes while some patron wailed out to Nickelback on stage.

Seriously, dude should not quit his day job.

“I know, I know,” I said as I gingerly pulled out the cake, setting it on a high top in the corner by the Love-Meter machine.

That’s when I saw him. Across the room, sitting with a group of guys, who were all over one another.

A blush crept up my cheeks.

M’s Place was well known for it’s queer-friendly atmosphere, but I couldn’t say I spent a lot of time there. Not because knowing that freaked me out, I just...

Somewhere in my DNA, I missed the link that made me able to engage in situations like this.

I wanted to go out and party, and karaoke... but I was always working, or studying. The few times I did go out, only ended with one night stands where the girls ran out the morning after anyway, so I didn’t have the best track record or experience with bar culture.

Hell, who was I kidding, I didn’t have the best experience with people , period.

I was better off frosting cakes for people who actually knew how to have fun.

But something about Mitchell DeVille called to the little voice inside of me, begging me to let go.

To have fun.

I swallowed as I watched his friends smiling, kissing one another, and being unabashedly public about their affections.

Then reality hit me like a sack of flour as I put two and two together.

His flirting online and at the cafe, his very PDA friendly friends, the way he was currently looking at me... like he wanted to devour me whole...

Oh fuck...

“What’s got you all in a twist? Hot young thing? Ex-girlfriend? Hot ex-girlfriend with another hot ex-girlfriend?” Archie snarked as he set down the boxes of cookies and cupcakes, popping the lids.

“Nothing. I?—”

But it was no use; Archie’s radar was laser sharp. He’d laid eyes on Mitchell, who was now getting up from his seat, and walking toward the bar.

“Oh... so... hot guy then. Hmmm,” he said with a shrug as my entire body heated from his words.

“Archie!”

“That is not nothing,” Archie jabbed.

“Oh my God, Archie, it’s not like that. He’s a?—”

What could I say?

Friend didn’t seem like the right word, but we weren’t strangers either, right?

“He’s a... work... friend.”

Archie raised his eyebrows. “Mhmmm. Sure. I have to say I’m kind of surprised, though,” he said, shaking his head as I fought to refute his insinuations.

“Didn’t think guys did it for you,” he teased.

“They don’t... I mean?—”

How could I explain something I barely understood myself?

I was not sure anyone really did it for me. It wasn’t like I had a ton of experience with people in general. I’d dated a few girls, and while I didn’t mind fucking, especially from behind, I would have rather ingested a year old cake than go down on a girl.

Does that mean I’m gay?

“You’re blushing like a whore in church, Penn. Besides, that man has more flames than a bag of Hot Cheetos. You can’t hide that shit.”

My stomach twisted in knots as I tried not to look at the tall, dark, cocky photographer.

And damn, was it a fight not to look.

“He’s right you know,” Will said as the last notes of the song played out. “You’re about as subtle as a hurricane.”

“He’s coming over here,” Archie said giddily. “Be cool, be cool... You gotta make a man work for it, baby.”

Mortification spread across my cheeks, through my veins, and caused my stomach to flip.

“What? No, Archie, I swear... I?—”

Archie smirked as I tried to find some sort of escape route, but between the tables with Max’s goodies, the bar, and the crowd, I was stuck.

“I can’t do this right now, I have to—” Panic crept up my neck with the maddening heat of a blush I couldn’t seem to quiet if my life depended on it.

Will laughed as he turned away from us, calling out over his microphone that he needed the patrons’ assistance to wish Max a happy birthday.

“Miguel said five minutes, Penn,” Archie whispered, just as Mitchell made it to the bar.

I felt him before I saw him, as I tried to focus and busy myself with arranging the cupcakes around the cake.

“Hey,” he said nonchalantly, leaning on the edge of the bar.

“Hey...” I said, like an absolute idiot as I turned around to get a look at him. Under the pink and blue lights of the bar, Mitchell looked stunning. Like some actor on an HBO show or something.

My cock more than agreed with the assessment, which made me acutely aware that whatever was happening to me, I was in over my head.

Never in my life had I looked at any woman, even the ones I’d dated, and formed an instant boner.

Panic flooded me as I shifted my body toward the table, if only to hide my inappropriate erection.

What the fuck?

Under his steely neon gaze, I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t process all the stimuli assaulting me at once.

“What brings you to this hole in the wall?” he asked, shifting his stance as he focused his gaze on me.

I felt like I was going to spontaneously combust.

I swallowed harshly as I turned away from him, needing air.

Why was talking to him so difficult?

I talked to lots of people!

“I mean... it’s your sister’s birthday.”

Mitchell raised one eyebrow. “So?”

I motioned to the cake. “Birthdays are kind of my job.”

“That sounds horrible,” he said with a grin.

“It’s not so bad... sometimes, I guess,” I said, running a hand through my hair, if only because I was feeling more on the spot than if I’d have had to karaoke in front of this entire damn room.

“I can’t say I’m surprised. This has Miguel written all over it,” Mitchell said, nodding to the cake. “Does that say... Happy Birthday Bitch ?”

I blushed at his curse. Something about the way his voice sounded when he swore made my damn blood rush and my cock twitch.

Please, just kill me now.

“It was requested,” I replied, but because I was nervous, I started rambling.

So unprofessional.

“I made a cake that said Merry Fucking Christmas once. My classmate and I piped on some bare assed elves. It was a hit at his Christmas party.”

Why the fuck did I say that?

Mitchell smirked, his eyes alight with mischief.

“What’s the dirtiest cake you’ve made, Cream Puff?”

My cheeks heated from his cocky tone, and before I could answer, thankfully, I was saved by the bell.

Or rather, Archie strong-arming his way to light the candles on the cake.

“S’cuse me,” he said, knocking me into Mitchell. Because of the tight space, I nearly fell over, but Mitchell caught me by the arms.

I was acutely aware of his warm palms against my skin, making the rest of my body heat like an oven. Instinctively, I reached out to steady myself, my hands settling on his hips as I cursed from the shove, both mortified beyond all belief, and the slightest bit pissed that Archie would be so careless.

Someone could have gotten seriously hurt!

“What the Hell, Archie?” I growled as I removed my sweaty hands from Mitchell’s hips, fidgeting with my shirt and pants, if only to quell the burgeoning hardness that would not relent.

The last thing I needed was Mitchell noticing such things.

A strange sort of thought presented itself as I had to acknowledge a part of me that wondered what his reaction would be if...

I forced the thought down, moving away from Mitchell for the moment as Will called out for everyone to sing Happy Birthday.

My focus was pulled to the end of the bar, as Miguel forced Max along the hallway out into the open bar area.

The shock on her face was evident, and I could see she was cursing him up and down, but despite that, there was a light in her eyes that could not be mistaken when she set gaze on her cake.

A two-tiered cake trimmed in white and pink fondant, with small liquor bottles and fondant bulldog faces.

I didn’t understand the reference, but then again, I didn’t need to. Whatever language they had as siblings was understood, and that was all that mattered.

The look of happiness on her face made me smile too. It settled all my nerves, and made me feel a thousand times better, because that one look...

That look of sheer delight was why I loved baking.

Bringing joy to the little moments in life, not just the big ones, was what I loved most about baking and designing.

The sounds of off-key and off-timed renditions of Happy Birthday filled the air, and I couldn’t help but join in as I moved aside, making room for Max and Miguel.

Max stood in front of her cake, and as the last notes of the out of sync bar hummed her birthday serenade, she took a moment to pause.

To make a wish.

I wondered for a moment what she wished for, and then watched as she blew out each flame one by one.

Watched as one candle flickered back to life as the bar roared with laughter and “oohs” and “awwws” filled the space.

“Happy Birthday, Max,” Mitchell said, flashing his sister with a smile.

“Happy Birthday to my favorite bitch,” Miguel said as he hugged her.

“You fucking assholes,” Max said, laughing as she fell into her brother’s hug. “All right, enough sentimental shit, I need to get back to work.”

“Henry volunteered to take care of the bar for the next hour, so sit your ass down,” Miguel said as Archie cut the cake .

“But, but...”

“No buts, missy. You heard the man, sit your ass down and enjoy yourself for once,” Mitchell said, before settling his gaze back on me.

“Same goes for you, Cream Puff.”

“What? Oh, I’m not staying, I?—”

“Let me buy you a drink.”

Archie’s backside as he moved around the high top knocked me into Mitchell’s space again, and I was starting to get pissed.

“I—” I panicked, trying to think of anything, any sort of excuse to escape this situation. Because between my cock and the heat from embarrassment, and a rather tight space, I was afraid I might literally expire.

“Come on, it’s my sister’s birthday, and with her in time out, I can guarantee you the drinks will actually be good.”

“Fuck you, Mitch!” Maxine bit out, but there was no venom in her voice. Only the sarcasm of an annoyed older sibling.

Mitchell slid his hand behind my back, his palm settling at the dip above my ass, and I felt like I was going to pass out.

“Ar... Archie and I are on the clock,” I said, swallowing nervously.

“No, we aren’t,” Archie quipped. “This was the last job for the day. The shop’s already closed up.”

Mitchell grinned, and the sight was like hot, melted chocolate ganache over sponge cake.

Fuck.

“Sounds to me like you’re pretty free,” he said smoothly. “Besides, we do have something to celebrate.”

I tried to focus on not melting into a puddle on the floor because everything was converging on me at once.

“I guess...” I said, biting my lip, if only to quell the sudden urge to curse out of panic. “Wait... We do?” I asked. I didn’t miss the light stroke of his fingertips along my spine, sending a shiver throughout my entire body.

It was as soothing as it was new.

Different.

I looked at Mitchell, under the bright neon, and something in his dark gaze settled my anxiety.

“Yeah, our partnership,” he said, flashing me with a smirk .

“Partnership...” I said the words like I didn’t know how to speak English, which was insane.

I could technically speak two languages. English and French.

But under Mitchell’s gaze, I could barely speak Caveman.

Mitchell gently pushed against my back, coaxing me to follow him.

I needed to get out of this tight space. I needed to breathe.

“Uh... I guess, one drink wouldn’t hurt.”