Page 51 of Sweet Hate (If You Dare #1)

HAVEN

Axel

You got this babe. You’re gonna kill it.

T his man is so damn thoughtful, texting me just because I’m making a start on the wedding cakes today.

I’m not entirely sure I deserve it. I know I hurt him, even though he’s been nothing but perfect since.

It’s been two weeks since I ran out on him, and my feelings, but I still hear his words on a loop. It’s like my own personal “Baby Shark” refusing to get out of my head.

I am fucking yours, Haven. That’s the whole fucking problem.

Does he mean it?

He would make an incredible boyfriend. Husband even.

But he scares me.

He scares me more than anything else ever has, and that says a lot considering I grew up with perpetual anxiety over the smallest things.

I know what it’s like to live without him, and it devastated me way more than discovering my ex was cheating on me, and I lived with and had been in a committed relationship with that twat for over two years.

I know he explained his reasoning, and I do get it.

But it doesn’t explain why I wasn’t important enough to him to reach out afterwards, when things settled.

It’s been over a decade. Actually, it’s probably closer to eleven years now.

Not once in all that time did he even try to call, message, email, send a freakin’ carrier pigeon.

Nothing.

Not even when he was drunk.

I’d been tempted hundreds of times, but I couldn’t put myself through it again. The waiting, hoping, desperate to hear from him.

He was able to just shut me out and forget about me.

He says he’s mine , but what guarantee do I have that he won’t disappear again?

I could never have treated him that way.

That’s why I made these damn rules to protect us both— OK, fine, mainly me —and despite trying my hardest to enforce them, I’m almost certain I’ve broken one, all while pushing him back and trying to stop him from breaking them.

We’ve done movie nights before—it was one of our things growing up. Even when we were hooking up back then, they were amazing, but I never felt like I did two weeks ago.

For the first time ever in our relationship, I felt more.

Too much .

I’ve always loved Axel. As my best friend.

Later on, as my best friend, who had the perfect joystick I could play with.

I didn’t feel like I’d blurred any lines with my feelings. Maybe because it was always temporary—I knew I was leaving.

There’s two weeks left of our arrangement and neither of us has hinted at anything more since that night.

So this is technically also still temporary.

A wave of guilt runs through me at just how temporary this could be as I eye the white envelope peeking out of my open purse like a magnet.

I’ve carried that letter around with me for three days now, not entirely sure what to do about any of it.

They’ve offered me the role of head patissier back in London—the job that launched my dad’s whole career. His job .

He failed to mention that he was planning on quitting it to start presenting his own TV show.

You’d think that’s something he might have mentioned to his only kid. Especially since he knew I planned to quit. I’d have had to move eventually, while dad worked there. I was already the second in command and had no intention of taking his job.

Deciding to run Gram’s bakery was a bit of a no brainer. Upending my life is nothing I’m not used to. At least this time it’s my choice, and for something that would just be mine.

And since coming back, I’ve realized that I don’t hate it here. Not anymore which just makes all this shit even harder.

And I can’t talk to anyone about it.

How do I choose?

Do I pick the big city I did in fact settle in and love, a hugely renowned position that would make multiple exclusive kitchens entirely mine?

I’d be following in my dad’s footsteps to elevate my reputation to that next level and open who knows how many other doors.

Or do I face my fears head-on and run my own bakery in this small coastal town, the place where Grams and all my friends are?

Plus, there’s Axel—Mr. I Am Fucking Yours himself.

If he meant that, then what does that mean for him—for us ?

I ran out of there because, for the first time ever, I felt something.

Something dangerous.

Deeper.

Forever-type feelings that I absolutely should not be feeling.

I don’t know what to do.

My nails dig into my palms when a wave of anxiety washes over me. Black spots fill my vision as the room starts to spin.

I try to grip the surface in front of me, but my clammy hands won’t hold on.

I lean back against the cold glass of the oven and slide down to the floor to sit with my head hanging low. I need to get myself under control before this turns into a full-blown attack.

Breathe in for four.

Hold for four.

Out for six.

Repeat.

I do this for about fifteen minutes, while running my thumb over the nail indents in my palm, focusing on the subtle dips in my skin.

Joke’s on me that the anxiety I thought I’d be feeling over making the wedding cakes isn’t even the issue. What I’m now facing is more crippling.

Whatever way I look at this, I lose.

I’ll either lose the job I busted my ass for—the one thing that gave me purpose my entire adult life, or I lose Axel, and what’s starting to feel like my heart and goddamn soul.

How am I supposed to choose?

I need to get up and make a start on these sponges, but instead I stay here. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I lean my head back on the cool glass and close my eyes.

This is nice.

This is calming.

Maybe divine intervention will strike me down with a lightning bolt or some shit, so I wake up supercharged and know what to do with my life.

I’m hit with a familiar comforting smell.

Is this a sign?

I open one eye and peek from my vantage point on the floor to find Axel’s concerned blue eyes staring straight back as he crouches in front of me. I jerk in shock, slamming my head back into the oven and my knee into his balls, sending him crashing onto his ass with a muttered curse.

“Bollocks, shit, fuck, I’m so sorry!”

I scramble to my knees and crawl over to him.

What can I do?

Think, Haven. Think.

Ice.

Will that work?

I don’t know if he’d want to stick that on his junk, but it’s probably burning, given the hue of his face right now.

“Let me get you some ice,” I say as I try to jump up, but his hand wraps around my wrist and tugs me back down beside him.

“I’m OK, Sprinks. Give me a second. I’m OK.”

His words might say that, but his bright red cheeks and pained expression say something entirely different. I straight up kneed him in the baby makers.

What if I’ve killed all his baby batter? How could we make a baby?

Make. A. Baby.

What the actual fuckity fuck, Haven Blake?

You’re in the middle of an existential life crisis, and now you’re talking about making babies with your lifelong best friend that you’re fucking but should absolutely not be in love with?

There will be no babies.

Jesus Christ.

Apparently, I’ve made it all about me again because Axel is lifting and cradling me on his lap .

“Wait, won’t this hurt your?—”

“Nope, the pressure is just what I need, and since your fine ass is the one who made them feel bad, it’s also going to be the one to sit on top of me till they feel better.”

His arms tighten around me, and I’m sure something stirs against my butt.

Yep, he’s got a boner now. Well, I can’t have mutilated him too badly if he can get it up already, thank god.

“Seems like they’re feeling better now.” I grind on his hard dick to prove my point.

“Ignore him, he’s a masochist.”

That comment has me dissolving into giggles, which spurs him into laughing too, so now we are both just sitting on the floor cackling like maniacs.

When we calm down enough to communicate like adults, it suddenly dawns on me that he’s supposed to be on shift at the firehouse.

“What are you doing here? Aren’t you working today?”

“I had a few hours blocked out with Cap’s permission to take my mom to her doctor’s appointment, and since I had time to spare, I thought I’d drop in and see my favorite girl.

Didn’t expect to get assaulted for my trouble, though.”

“I really am sorry! I wasn’t expecting anyone to be there.”

He boops me on the nose with his finger, a smirk spreading over his too sexy stubbled face.

“You’re cute. It’s OK, Sprinks, it’ll take a lot more than that to knock me down.” He thrusts his hips beneath me and steals my breath, grinding his still hard cock into me. “Now, are you going to tell me why I found you sitting on the floor in the first place?”

Ohhhh nothing, I just need to decide if I stay here or leave town again and whether I’m actually in love with you or just dick dazzled.

“Pass.”