Page 42 of Stealing His Cupcake (Stockholm Syndrome for the Win #2)

Wyatt

Sitting in my favorite chair, I pull out the half-finished blanket for Mrs. Wilkins.

Officially, I’m keeping an eye on Amy, making sure she doesn’t say anything she’s not supposed to while she chats with Kayla, but I don’t think my supervision is necessary.

It’s baffling, but Amy genuinely seems to like me, and I don’t think she would try to get me in trouble at this point.

I’m staying, anyway, because I can’t not be around Amy.

Plus, it will be nice to watch her relaxed as she talks to her friend.

She’s still a little tense around me, probably afraid of triggering my “murder reflex”, or perhaps she’s just wary of showing her true self in front of me because that bastard Craig put her down one hundred too many times. God, I wish I had killed him!

Though I rarely watch it, I do have a television. Once Amy told me the name of the TV show she and Kayla watch, I got the subscription to the right streaming platform and set it up on the device, so all she has to do now is turn it on.

Beaming a smile at me, Amy grabs her old phone—the new one hasn’t arrived yet—and calls her friend .

“AMES!”

The loud shriek makes me wince. Damn, that woman has a piercing voice. Nothing like my soft, sweet Amy.

“Are you there, Amy? I can’t see you.”

“Yeah, I’m here,” Amy says. “Sorry, the front camera on my phone finally gave up. Can’t get it to work at all.”

It works just fine, for a banged-up, ancient brick of a phone, but it would be difficult for Amy to explain the change in scenery, so I told her to only use audio.

Once some time passes from Craig’s death, I plan on making her say she started “dating”, but having a boyfriend one week after her previous one was killed would raise questions even with Amy’s best friend.

Let alone moving in with said “boyfriend”. Or getting married.

I love that Amy wants to tell Kayla about me.

Brag about me, even. I’m not gonna lie, it’s a huge ego boost, but I also like that she’s so accepting of our relationship.

Not even in my wildest dreams did I dare to hope for her to accept me this quickly.

Or to accept me at all. A part of me still worries that it’s a trick, a plot to get me to lower my guard.

Except I don’t sense any deception from Amy.

I don’t mean to underestimate her, but I don’t think she’d even be capable of concocting and carrying out some master plan to get me to—

To do what? I can’t even figure out what the goal of such a plan would be.

To kill me? If Amy was truly a trained assassin sent to kill me, she would have tried already.

Besides, there are easier ways to get rid of me.

I’m careful, but I’m not invincible. A single bullet from a safe distance or a cut in a brake line of my car would do the job just fine.

Besides, no one could have planned my irrational obsession with Amy.

It struck me out of the blue, completely random.

Counting on something like that happening would be the worst kill plan ever.

No, Amy’s affection is genuine. I might not understand her reasons, but I’m not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. I’ll just keep quiet and count my blessings and all that jazz. I’m sure there are more proverbs applicable to my situation, but I can’t think of any right now .

“… phone of yours,” Kayla is just saying to Amy as I start paying attention to their conversation again. Truly, I’m the worst captor ever. “I’d offer you my old one, but I don’t want to get grumbled at again.”

Amy rolls her eyes. “I didn’t grumble. I just politely informed you that I don’t need anyone’s charity.”

That’s right, cupcake. You don’t need anyone’s charity because now you have me and I’ll give you everything your heart desires.

“Alright, alright. Sorry I care, bitch,” Kayla teases halfheartedly, making Amy snort. Kayla’s voice turns more serious as she continues, “Sorry about those late-night phone calls again. I was just really worried about you. How are you doing?”

“Fine. Really,” Amy adds at a disbelieving sound from the phone.

“I know it’s early, but I’m over Craig. I mean, I’m slowly getting over Craig,” she corrects herself, rightly realizing that such a significant change of mind in such a short time span would be suspicious.

“With everything he’s done, it’s not that difficult anymore.

” Amy shares a look with me and I know she’s talking about the fact that Craig was a disgusting sexual predator, but Kayla doesn’t know about that and never will.

It must be difficult to explain how you can be over someone you loved for an entire year so quickly without revealing the truth. “He…he cheated on me.”

“Yeah, I looked up the articles after you told me. What a bastard. I never liked him, but I didn’t expect him to be that much of a sleazebag. Or that he’d actually hurt you.”

As she absently touches the bruises around her temple, Amy’s look turns haunted, and I want nothing more than to drag Craig’s spirit here so that I could beat the shit out of him.

I bet he wouldn’t be so brave when faced with someone his size.

“Yeah, I…I didn’t expect that either.” Amy’s words ring hollow.

“But I’m fine now. The bruises are almost gone. No headache, either.”

“Whew,” Kayla sighs in relief. “I was worried, you know? After I left. The doctor said you shouldn’t be alone in case you lost consciousness and—”

“For 48 hours, Kay! I wasn’t supposed to be alone during the first 48 hours. I’m fine now. Besides, I’m not alon— Um, I mean I don’t have a concussion, so stop it. Seriously, you’re such a worrywart. Let’s watch the show before you develop an ulcer or something.”

“You’re the older one. If anyone’s going to develop an ulcer, it’s you.”

Rolling her eyes, Amy grabs the remote. “I’m older by two months, sis. You won’t be that far behind me when our old, frail bodies start failing us. Ready?”

“Nursing home roomies! And yeah, I’m ready. Let’s go!”

I chuckle at their easy shenanigans, hoping that one day soon, Amy will be this relaxed around me, too. Kayla will be disappointed, though. If Amy is going to bunk with anyone in a nursing home, it will be with me.

The TV starts playing the show’s intro and I try not to look but, in a sudden spike of masochism, my eyes are drawn to the screen.

Beautiful women in revealing dresses kiss and fight with equally beautiful men in expensive suits in a “previously on” montage and I can’t look away because it’s bad .

So damn bad. Mexican soap operas from the ‘90s bad.

Like that one about that blind girl in a green dress my grandmother used to watch all the time.

“How dare you, Eric?!” an actress screeches at a dark-haired man in the worst display of acting I’ve ever seen, then pretends to slap him. “You don’t just get to kiss me!”

“ How dare you, Eric? ” Amy repeats mockingly. “God, this actress is so bad.”

Relief floods me as I realize that both Amy and Kayla are laughing at the bad acting, not admiring it.

I never would have said anything to Amy, but I’m not sure I’d survive it if she took this crap seriously.

Instead, the girls seem to take the show almost as a parody.

While still keeping up with the plot that’s, frankly, so convoluted I have trouble following it.

I do my best to focus on my crocheting, but the show, coupled with the girls’ animated commentary, proves too distracting .

“Bah!” Kayla exclaims when the dark-haired hero casts a smoldering look at a cute, freckled woman who’s apparently the main female character of the show. “You’re engaged, douchebag!”

“It’s an arranged union,” Amy argues. “Eric doesn’t love Cordelia, and she doesn’t love him.”

If Cordelia is the gorgeous blonde from the earlier scene who was examining Eric’s tonsils with her tongue, then I beg to differ. She looked very much into him.

Noticing I’m watching the show with rapt attention now, Amy grins at me. “She just wants his money,” she says, presumably for my benefit because Kayla murmurs agreement. “Maggie isn’t interested in money. She just wants to live happily ever after with Henry.”

Ugh. I glance at the screen with confusion that only makes Amy grin harder. “Henry is—” she starts, but Kayla interrupts her impatiently.

“Yeah, yeah. Mr. NiceAndRich and all kinds of perfect. Pfft. I know you’re super into him, Ames, but I still think Maggie would be better off with Eric.”

Super into him? Now I’m glaring and Amy is covering her mouth to stop herself from giggling. “Actually,” she casts me a mischievous look, “I might be on Eric’s side as well.”

Kayla gasps dramatically. “No fucking way! Don’t tell me you’re suddenly rooting for Mr. DarkAndMysterious?”

I cock a brow at her, curious about the answer. Fidgeting in her seat, Amy murmurs, “Well, sometimes a bit of darkness is a good thing, isn’t it?”

Oh, definitely. Unlike the terrible actor’s attempt at being seductive, my smoldering look is very real.

Amy can clearly read the things I want to do to her in my eyes because hers widen and she squeezes her thighs together.

“Later,” I mouth silently and, dragging her poor, abused lower lip between her teeth, Amy nods.

“That’s what I’ve been saying for, like, forever!” Kayla interrupts our silent exchange. “Glad to see I’m being a good influence. ”

Giggling, Amy throws a handful of popcorn into her mouth. “You mean a bad influence. I’m pretty sure we’re supposed to be rooting for Henry.”

“Bah. Henry is boring. A man should have a dark streak to spice things up. The good kind of dark streak, though, not the cheating asshole kind. I haven’t— Oh, no! Is that Maggie’s grandfather?! I thought he was dead!”

And just like that, Amy’s attention is back on the screen.

I don’t mind, though, because I already discovered something important about my little cupcake.

She has been rooting for the boring, polite, “good guy” kind of hero, right until the moment I came along.

Now, she’s all for embracing the inner darkness.

The sexy kind of darkness, at least. That has to mean something, right?

An older man invades the scene and starts yelling at poor Maggie about inheritance and mansions and…apples? Brows drawn together, I look at Amy for explanation but she just shrugs helplessly, pointing at the phone. Right. It would be suspicious if she started explaining everything out loud to me.

With a long-drawn sigh, I set the crocheting aside because I clearly won’t be able to focus on it, and reach for my phone instead.

If I have to watch this show, I may as well find out what it’s about.

And what’s with the apples, because the old man seems beyond pissed about them.

While I’m at it, I open a new message window.

I might not be able to talk to Amy out loud while she’s on the phone with Kayla, but that doesn’t mean I can’t communicate with her.

Me

This show is terrible *facepalm emoji* *laughing face emoji*

Smiling nervously, Amy wipes her greasy fingers into a napkin before typing.

Cupcake

I’m sorry. You don’t have to watch it. I promise I won’t say anything to Kayla even if you’re not here.

Me

Are you kidding? I love it! It’s so bad it’s hilarious. I just need to google the apple thing.

The tightness around Amy’s eyes disappears as she relaxes.

Cupcake

Oh, you’ll love that. I think. It’s really…juicy *winking face emoji*

Me

Oh? I can think of other juicy things I love. Like your *cat emoji*

Amy gasps, breathing in a piece of popcorn, then starts coughing violently. I’m already on my feet before I hear Kayla’s concerned voice. “God, Ames, are you alright? Should I send an ambulance to your apartment?”

“I’m,” cough, “fine.” Cough. “I just need,” cough, “some—” She looks at the glass of water I’m holding in front of her before smiling gratefully.

“Some water,” she finishes after sipping from it.

“I’m fine, really. Don’t worry so much.” I feel like she said that both to Kayla and me.

“And no calling ambulances. I’m not even at my— I’m not even hurt or anything.

Just choked on some popcorn. Too surprised by that ring Mrs. Donnahey found in Henry’s drawer. He’s not going to propose, is he?”

Relieved that Amy’s life is no longer in peril, I amble back to my armchair to find a new message on my phone.

Cupcake

*shocked face emoji* You can’t just say that!

Me

I can and I will. Are there commercial breaks? I’m hungry and not for pizza.

Rolling her eyes, Amy holds up the pizza box.

Cupcake

Streaming services don’t have commercial breaks. Pizza will have to do.

Me

Will it, though? *thinking face emoji* *devil face emoji*

Amy gasps again, fortunately not choking on anything this time.

She shakes her head furiously but I can see the way she shifts her legs and squeezes her thighs together.

The idea of me eating her out while she’s on the phone with her friend intrigues her.

However, as I saunter over, I can also sense her apprehension.

She’s not ready yet. I need to get her to trust me more first, to open all those parts of her mind she’s been repressing.

I get the feeling that once Amy gets over herself, she’ll be quite a wildcat, and not just in bed.

For now, though, instead of dropping to my knees and worshipping her pussy, I grab the pizza box from her hand, flashing her a grin as I return to my seat.

Me

Not today, cupcake

Cupcake

Thank you *blushing face emoji*

Before I can ask what she’s thanking me for, another person dramatically enters the scene unfolding on the screen.

Both Amy and Kayla exclaim in surprise and the sexy moment is broken.

Not wanting to disturb Amy’s time with her friend, I go back to the extensive Wikipedia article describing the previous four seasons of The Price of Passion, determined to find out why Maggie's grandfather is such an asshole to her. Seriously, I was gearing up to kill him before realizing he wasn’t real.

Huh. Who would have thought watching TV could be so much fun?