Page 71 of When Forever Falls Apart

“Madelina, we don’t have to process everything right now,” he interjects lightly.

“We don’t?”

“Nope! It can just be whatever it is,” he assures me in a casual tone.

“Okay,” I drag, but then cock my head with confusion. “But what exactly is that?”

“Will you just go to work? I’ll swing by later. I need to wrap up some emails.”

“Fine, but you know you’re annoying, right?” I retort, rolling my eyes while struggling to hide my smile.

I take a final bite, then hop out of bed and look for my clothes, which are scattered on the floor. As soon as I have them in my hands, Elliot jumps ahead of me and blocks my way to the bathroom. His fingers dance over my hips, a hidden agenda behind the simple touch.

“Careful now, if you keep up with this naughty behavior, I might just have to take you into the shower and show you exactly what I can do. And we both know how much you loathe shower sex.”

A mischievous grin spreads across my face. “Is that a threat, Mr. Woods? Well, your pancakes sucked. How do you like them apples?”

Elliot runs his thumb against my bottom lip. “Did they?”

I nod, holding my breath since this is going to end only one way. “Yeah, I was after more cream.”

His gaze shifts from my lips to the tank top in my hand. Suddenly, he tilts his head and asks, “What does your shirt stand for?”

I glance down, biting my lip teasingly. “Shut the fuck up and take that dick like a good girl.”

Elliot lifts my chin, pressing his body against mine and, no surprise, he is rock hard again.

“Well, Miss Beaumont, on your knees, and shut the fuck up and take that dick like a good girl.”

“Have you ever had shower sex?” I ask as we stand inside the kitchen.

Billie squeezes the piping bag too hard, and the crème splatters chaotically against the counter and the wall.

“Wow, that visual really illustrated my answer,” Billie laughs, then tries to catch her breath. “Yes, I have, in college, and it was the best sex of my life. But the real question is, why are you asking?”

“Just a scene in a book,” I mumble, brushing it off like it’s nothing.

“There’s actually some science to it.”

“Uh huh, go on?”

“Like, you really need to ramp up the foreplay. And when you’re in the moment, the trick is not to stand directly under the water because you lose all the lubrication. You want to be pressed against the wall, where the water is still flowing, but not drenching you. Does that make sense?”

“One hundred percent,” I reply, nodding. “I mean, yeah, I tried it once and it was a complete disaster. It was in college, too. He just kept going, and all I could hear was that awful slapping sound, which completely threw me off. Then, his roommate walked in, and it was officially all over.”

Billie cringes. “Yeah, the echo can be intense, but guys seem to love that.”

I steadily lift the matcha-flavored donuts from the icing tray, their vibrant green and white glaze shimmering under the soft light as I carry them out front.

Thankfully, today is less busy than usual, with mainly our regulars and a few out-of-towners. I’m counting down the minutes until I can climb back into bed. Every muscle in my body feels achy, as if I’ve just completed a marathon.

Suddenly, one of the donuts slips from the tongs, tumbling through the air in a slow-motion spiral before landing with a gentle thud on the floor.

“Oh, you slippery little fucker,” I mutter under my breath.

I bend down to retrieve it, knowing it’s destined for the trash, but wince as a jolt of pain shoots through my back.

“Are you okay?” Billie’s concerned voice pulls me back to reality. “Did you hurt yourself?”