Stud Muffin (Donner Bakery #2) - Jiffy Kate Page 0,60

my damp hair into a high bun and secure it with a few bobby pins. Pinching my cheeks for a little color, I give myself a look in the mirror and think about applying makeup, but again, I’m not trying to impress anyone. The people at the anger management session have seen me in all states. It’s a come-as-you-are environment. So, if I made an effort today, it would only be for Cage’s benefit.

Turning, I go to walk out of the bathroom, catching the light switch on my way out, but then pause and reach back over the counter for my lip gloss. Swiping it across my lips, I give them a smack and toss it back.

There. That’s fine. I mean, I can’t go with dry lips. That’s more of a necessity than a frivolity.

A few minutes later, there’s a knock at my door and my heart leaps up into my throat.

“Hey,” I say, albeit a tad breathless, but I think I cover well as I reach around the door to grab my bag. “You didn’t have to come to the door.”

Cage’s smile is slow and easy and it makes my insides turn to mush.

Dear, Lord, give me strength.

“It’s rude to honk,” he says, stepping aside and waiting while I lock the door.

“I give you permission to honk next time,” I tell him with a laugh, tossing my keys in my bag and following him to the truck. When he opens my door for me, I get a ridiculous flutter in my stomach.

He smirks, quirking an eyebrow at me, as if to challenge me.

Say something about opening your door, Tempest. I dare you.

So, I don’t. I smile and say thank you as I climb inside. Being a little on the shorter side, it’s a bit of work getting into big trucks like this, but I make it. Besides, all of this kickboxing I’ve been doing paired with my occasional runs, I’ve never felt better. Hanging around Cage makes me a better version of myself. He makes me feel things I haven’t felt in a long time, and I’m not just talking about the butterflies and tingles. It’s more than that. I feel stronger and more confident.

And I swear he looks at me sometimes like I’m appetizing.

I’ve tried to convince myself it’s my imagination, my own desires being projected onto him, but every once in a while, there’s heat in his stare and if I were to meet it for too long, I’d be burned alive from the inside out. Which is why I don’t. I never allow myself to hold his gaze when he looks at me like that. I shut it down and walk away.

It’s actually one of the coping mechanisms Lana has been teaching us.

When all else fails, walk away. Remove yourself from the situation.

“So, we turn left at the stop sign?” Cage asks and I realize I’ve been deep in my thoughts for a couple minutes.

“Sorry,” I say, reaching over and buckling up. “Yeah, just make a left.” Guiding him out of town, we make small talk about the weather and how beautiful it is this time of year, until we hit the highway.

When Cage sets the cruise, I relax back into my seat, trying to not let the intensity of his scent and closeness get to me. Needing something to focus on, I decide now is a good time to get to know Cage Erickson a little better. I mean, if he’s going to be my date to the reunion in a few weeks, we need to cover some basics, right?

“How do you know Hank?” I ask, starting with something I’ve wondered since I met him and never got a chance to ask.

I hear him sigh, but it’s not in annoyance, it’s more of a where-do-I-start kind of sigh.

“That good, huh?” I tease, chancing a glance his way and seeing his lips pull up in a smile.

“Well, it’s pretty cut and dry,” he starts. “We were both enrolled at Harvard—”

“What?” I ask, cutting him off, thinking he’s pulling my leg. He and Hank are the last two people I’d picture going to Harvard.

Cage’s laugh fills the truck and I almost regret thinking conversation would be a good distraction. His laugh is almost as intoxicating as his smell. “It’s true,” he continues. “We were both just starting our freshman year when we met and hit it off… found some sort of common ground between the two of us, even though we’re as different as night and day.