Page 11 of The Fouls We Make (Braysen U #3)

Reed

I dropped Tatum off at work earlier and promised I’d be here when she clocked out. I decided to arrive a bit early to sneak in and watch her at Sweet Tooth, just to see her in her element.

The doorbell rings as I open it, but Tatum’s nowhere in sight. Wyatt is behind the counter, her eyes flicking to me with a barely concealed smile. She finishes with a customer—a woman and her twin daughters in dance costumes, their hair done up in cobalt and teal ribbons. From their T-shirts, it looks like they’ll be joining Ava and Hallyn on the field during our game this weekend. The girls spot me and giggle, one whispering to the other about recognizing me from a Bulldog poster. I nod and wave, and their laughter turns into more excited chatter.

“Go Bulldogs,” their mom says, smiling as she ushers them out.

“I’m guessing you’re here for Tate,” Wyatt says once the shop is empty.

I shrug nonchalantly, avoiding her gaze as I browse the pastry and cake selection. “What makes you say that?”

Wyatt laughs. “Nice try. She’s in the back prepping for tomorrow. Last I saw, she was frosting cupcakes for an order.” She turns away, grabbing a bottle of cleaner and a rag, and begins to wipe the counter off.

I don’t bother with excuses or lies and head to the back to find Tatum.

She’s wearing an apron with her hair in a messy bun, flour streaked across her face. Her phone is hooked up to a Bluetooth speaker playing nineties country—something I doubt Wyatt would listen to.

I don’t announce myself right away but stand off to the side, watching her work. She finishes up with her piping bag and steps back to admire her handiwork. Her phone vibrates on the counter as I send her a text.

Her eyes dart over to the screen, and her smile when she sees who the message is from does something wild to my heart. She peels off her gloves and swipes at her phone, reading the message before setting it down. When she doesn’t respond, I clear my throat.

“What the hell, Reed? What are you doing here?”

I nod toward my phone. “You were just gonna leave me on ‘Read’ like that? Some friend you are.” I scoff, and she rolls her eyes.

“Be careful, Hendrix. I thought we agreed no feelings, and you’re starting to sound like an insecure boyfriend.”

I shove my phone into my pocket and make my way toward her. Her eyes widen before a slow smile tugs at her lips as I pin her against the counter.

“I’m not insecure,” I say, rocking against her, making her inhale sharply. “I might be a bit territorial, but I prefer to think of it as protective. Either way, I noticed the way you lit up when you saw the message. You can pretend you weren’t happy, but we both know better. Are you a liar, Tate?”

“No,” she fires off, and I chuckle.

“Okay then, I’m not insecure, and you’re not a liar. I guess that’s settled. The real reason I’m here is to see what you’re working on. Show me those cupcakes you’ve been decorating.”

I rock against her, and her gaze locks with mine.

“You better knock it off,” she mutters, barely above a whisper.

My eyes drop to her lips, where she’s nervously biting the edge. I’m still learning all there is to know about Tatum Pierce. The one thing I know for sure is that she tries to play off that she’s unaffected by me, but it’s all an act.

I lean in, tracing my lips along her ear, and she shivers.

“Or what?” I whisper.

Her eyelids flutter shut when I pull away, and I smile.

“Show me your cupcakes, Tate. C’mon.” I step back and glance at her work.

The cupcakes are arranged in a way that forms a cake. “Let’s Go Bulldogs” is written across the top, complete with a detailed megaphone.

“We got an order from the coach of the cheerleading squad. Do you think it turned out okay?”

Honestly, I think they’re better than okay. The detail is impressive, and they look incredible.

“I think you nailed it. They look great—and delicious too.”

Her sigh of relief is accompanied by a smile that lights up her eyes, glittering under the fluorescent lights. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely!”

I watch her open the large bakery box and carefully place the cakes inside. She takes them over to the large shelf along the wall, placing them with a few other orders I’m guessing need to be ready for the morning.

“Come here.” I grin, reaching for her hand and tugging her toward me.

She lets out a yelp that turns into a giggle as I bury my face in the crook of her neck.

“You better keep it down now before Wyatt comes in here and starts asking questions. Don’t make me try to explain to her why I need you in my arms.”

Tate pulls away, narrowing her gaze, and rolls her eyes with a playful smirk.

“You keep rolling those damn eyes, sweetheart, and I’m worried they might pop out of your head.” I slip my arm around her, pulling her closer so her chest presses against mine. My lips brush against her ear as I add, “You’re too beautiful for anything like that to happen, so knock it off.”

I bend down and lift her onto the table. She grips my shoulders and giggles. “Reed, the counter is covered in flour and frosting.”

She leans to the side, checking to make sure she didn’t sit on anything.

“It’s fine. Whatever it is, I’ll clean it off you.” I wag my brows, and she tries to stifle a grin, pursing her lips.

“You do realize Wyatt could walk in at any moment, right? Hell, Michelle could show up here too.”

Michelle is her new manager, but I’ve learned since Tatum was hired that she’s been leaving Tatum to close on the weeknights when she can.

“For a taste of you”—I grin, stepping between her legs—“it’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

She exhales a sigh, wrapping her arms around my neck, and pulls me into her.

“Are you sure we should do this?” she mumbles when I press my forehead against hers.

“You havin’ second thoughts on me now?”

She leans back, avoiding eye contact. I trace my finger along her chin, gently guiding her gaze back to mine.

When she shrugs, I hold my breath, waiting for her response. I’m not about to push her into anything she doesn’t want, but the urge to fall to my knees and convince her in other ways is tempting.

“Don’t you think this could get a little messy? I mean, when has being friends with benefits ever actually worked out?”

“Messy, how?” I glance at her apron, which has some frosting smeared from a previous mishap, and the flour still clinging to her cheeks. “I thought you liked it a little messy.”

She looks down at herself and shrugs, acknowledging my point.

“I like it here, in Braysen. I’ve made some friends. Even though I plan on moving into a dorm room in the spring, I don’t want to ruin the friendships I’ve made with anyone or create any tension while we’re still roommates.”

“What makes you think you could ruin our friendship in the first place?”

She exhales, giving me a hard look.

“I’m serious. I thought we agreed this was supposed to be fun. I’m not looking for a relationship either. It’s not for me. It never will be,” I admit.

She presses her lips together, falling silent as she studies me.

“You honestly think you’ll never be in a relationship?”

“I mean, you were the one who said your last one ended badly. I thought you were done dating and ready to devote your life to kittens and lawn gnomes. What’s so wrong with me saying it’s not for me either?”

She shrugs. “I guess I didn’t realize you were against relationships entirely.”

“Yeah, well, when you’ve grown up around people who had no business being together, and instead of going their separate ways, they made everyone around them miserable, you start to question if it could end up being you too.”

Tatum leans on her hands. My fingers itch to pull her toward me.

“That’s sad, though, don’t you think?”

“Are you trying to convince me to have a relationship? I thought I was trying to prove why you don’t need to worry about this ruining things between us?”

“I’m not, but I just think it’s sad is all. I mean, even though I don’t want anything serious, I hate the thought of you being single forever.”

“That’s why I need you.” I smirk. “Let me live out all my wildest fantasies before you leave me for your house plants.”

“You’re ridiculous.” She giggles.

I slide my palms along her thighs until I grip her hips, pulling her closer. She wraps her arms around my neck, pressing her forehead to mine.

“Maybe I am, but can you blame me? Besides, I need to leave you some memories to think back on for your spank bank too.”

I pull away, wagging my brows, and her face flushes a delicious pink. It makes me imagine all the ways I’d like to punish her and make her blush even more.

“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Not a chance,” I say, my voice deepening as I lean in to press my mouth against her ear. “Only because I want to live out all your wildest fantasies too. You shouldn’t have to resort to watching porn when you have me right next door.”

She inhales deeply, and I can tell it’s to mask the way her body is trembling. “Okay.”

“Okay?” I ask, a hint of curiosity in my tone. “Okay, as in…?”

“Okay, we have a deal. An agreement. Whatever the hell you want to call this.”

I study her face, searching for any sign of hesitation. When my gaze lands on her lips, her tongue darts out and traces them.

My thumb gently brushes her lower lip, guiding her closer until our mouths are just inches apart.

“So how does this work exactly?” she asks. “Am I supposed to text you when I’m horny and want you to sneak into my room?”

I chuckle. “That’s one way to do it.”

“Well, what is your way, then?”

“How about you stop overthinking it and leave that part to me?”

“Okay…”

“All right, now enough talking and fuckin’ kiss me already.”

She grins, giggling as I grip her ass and pull her close. Our lips crash together, the sweet taste of sugar lingering on her mouth.

I’m craving her in downright sinful ways. My only hope now is that by the end of this, it’ll be enough to satisfy my appetite.

I’ll savor every moment while I can.