“By the way, Z’s too rude to introduce us, but I’m Eric-or you can call me E.” “Damn, girl, you are welcome to bring your cherry pie over any time.” He sticks out his hand. He waltzes back into the kitchen and gives Sugar an appreciative look. Sure enough, he’s practically having an orgasm in the den as he devours the piece he snagged while we were talking. “Some PR girl made all that up.” I explain the story to her. “No, no, it’s just…I fucking hate cherries.” I say the words lightly, not wanting to hurt her feelings. “You don’t like it.” She looks back at me. I turn around and she’s staring down at her piece. “Yeah,” I choke out, walking over to the sink to fill up a glass of water then chugging it down. “You look like you’re barely eating any.” “Very good,” I tell her after chewing, fighting my gag reflex. My body clenches at the tart taste, at the disgusting squishiness of the cherry. I give the bite a long look and stick it in my mouth. I hold my plate and get a small piece on my fork. Then she gets a knife out of the drawer and proceeds to cut three slices. She heads for the kitchen cabinets and pulls them open until she finds three dessert plates. I look at her, taking in her earnest blue eyes. It also says my favorite song is “Dark Horse” by Katy Perry…just no. That meeting ran short and before she could get all of us interviewed, we left for practice and she never came back to recheck her facts. I recall the bio she’s referring to and the PR girl who did them for us. “It is your favorite, right? I spent the whole afternoon on this thing.” “I read your HU bio and it said it’s your favorite.” “It’s cherry pie.” She says the words with bravado. Almost shyly, she turns and opens the box, and hell, at this point I don’t even care what’s in it. “Before you look at it, just know I did the best I could.” She grimaces, pressing her lips together, that blush rising on her cheeks again. How did I miss that? There’s also a half-moon birthmark the size of a quarter to the right on her waist and my pulse jerks, fantasizing about putting my mouth there, sucking the taste of her between my lips.
She turns to face me, and I blink at the twinkle of a piercing in her belly button, the blue jewel causing my eyes to linger on the creamy strip of skin between her sweater and jeans.
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