JUNIPER'S POV:
I wake up to a pounding headache, the kind that feels like a rock concert is happening inside my skull. Not surprising, given how much I drank last night. With a groan, I drag a hand over my face, squinting against the bright sunlight streaming through the window.
I turn my head, expecting to see Hiram beside me, but the bed is empty. Instead, there's a neatly folded note on the pillow. Curiosity courses through me, and I grab the note, unfolding it with shaky hands.
You're probably reading this sometime around noon. Maybe even later, but I had to head out for work. Left some painkillers and water on your nightstand to help with the hangover. I love you. Hope you have an amazing day.
His words draw a smile to my lips as memories from last night come flooding back-blurry but vivid enough to make me blush. I toss the note aside and reach for the small bottle of painkillers he thoughtfully left behind. After swallowing two pills and washing them down with water, I flop back onto the mattress, letting out a sigh.
The scenes from last night replay in my mind: Hiram's hands, his lips, and everything in between. God, I wish I'd been sober to fully soak it in, but the snippets I can piece together are enough to make my stomach flip.
I'm pulled out of my daze when my phone starts blaring. Panicked, I fumble through the mess of blankets until I find it. The screen shows Sally's name, and holy crap, it's her fifteenth missed call.
"Shit!" I curse, noticing the time. It's way past noon.
I leap out of bed, adrenaline surging through me. There's no time to dwell on anything-not Hiram, not my headache, not even my still-sleepy limbs. I bolt to the bathroom, taking the quickest shower of my life before throwing on a loose, flowy dress. I do not trust how sobber I am, so I take a cab.
**
By the time I arrive, the bakery is a madhouse. The place is crammed with customers, the air thick with the smell of coffee and freshly baked bread, and a visibly stressed Sally is barely keeping up behind the counter. Her head snaps up when she sees me, her eyes narrowing like daggers aimed directly at my soul.
"Shit, shit, shit," I mutter under my breath as I weave through the crowd toward her. Before I can even offer an excuse, Sally shoves an apron against my chest.
"Don't even start. Just get to work," she says in a sharp tone.
I nod, slipping the apron on as quickly as I can. I dive into the chaos, grabbing trays and plates, and juggling orders as Sally barks them out one after another.
Customers shuffle impatiently, with different conversations mixing together in the air. The heat from the ovens makes everything worse as beads of sweat form on my face. Shit! I shouldn't have taken anything last night, I curse under my breath as I run around like a lost corpse.
The only thing worse than still being partially hungover and working is Sally's silence, which is extremely loud. The way she ignores me says everything she doesn't need to say out loud. I know I've messed up-big time. If Rhea weren't my best friend, I'm pretty sure Sally would've fired me on the spot.
Speaking of Rhea, where the hell is she?
I push the thought aside, focusing on the trays of pastries in front of me. Time blurs as the two of us work in sync-her taking orders, me scrambling to fulfill them.
Finally, hours later, the crowd starts to thin out. I slump against the counter, sighing in exhaustion.
"Phew," Sally mutters, wiping her brow. Then she glances at me, and I wonder if it is the right time to tender a heartfelt apology.
I take a moment to gather my thoughts, then glance at Sally. "I'm sorry, Sally," I mumble.
She looks up, her expression softening just enough for a small smile to form.
"It's okay, June. You've got your life to live, but you and Rhea really need to pick better days to vanish. I gave you the day off yesterday because Rhea wouldn't stop going on about this Lyon boy, and now I regret it." She sighs, leaning against the counter with her arms crossed.
"I get it. You're both adults, but I'll always be a mother first. My daughter's out there with some boy I don't even know, and she's ignoring my calls on purpose," her voice drops.
Guilt washes over me, but before I can find the right words to comfort her, a familiar voice interrupts.
"Hey."
I glance toward the counter, my stomach tightening as I spot Troy standing there, his chestnut eyes sparkling with warmth.
"Troy," I say instinctively, his name leaving my lips before I can even process what's happening.
Sally turns to him, her expression brightening just slightly. "Mr. Davidson, you're late today. We're about to close," she says, trying to hide her exhaustion.
Troy doesn't respond immediately. His gaze is fixed on me, and for a moment, it's like no one else exists. Sally clears her throat, snapping him back to reality.
"Uh, right? Just give me a cake, and I'll be at that corner," he says, gesturing vaguely toward a table before walking away.
Sally shoots me a knowing look with one eyebrow raised. "You know he likes you," she says, a smirk tugging at her lips.
I shake my head quickly, trying to brush off the conversation.
"Anyway, you handle his order while I clean up."
I nod, grabbing a tray and placing the last piece of cake on a saucer. Then I take out my phone and quickly text Rhea.
"Sally is angry where are you?"
I get an instant reply.
"Lyon is leaving town today. Tell mother I love her, and I will make it up to her." With a sigh, I slide my phone into my pocket, then I lift the tray with Troy's cake.
My heart thuds a little faster with each step I take toward his table. It's not like I have a crush on him-definitely not-but the intensity of his gaze is enough to make my knees wobble.
When I finally reach his table, I set the tray down carefully, trying to steady my shaking hands.
"Why didn't you return my text?" Troy asks before I can even move away.
I freeze, blinking at him.
"What text?" I ask, genuinely clueless.
His brow furrows, and he pulls out his phone, sliding it across the table. I pick it up, my eyes scanning the message.
I check the date, and it is the day Victor harassed me which led me to spend the night at Hiram's. My stomach twists into knots as I realize Hiram must have seen the message. And not just seen it-he deleted it.
Anger flickers beneath my skin, but I push it down. I don't want to think about Hiram invading my privacy right now, not when Troy's watching me expectantly.
"So?" Troy's voice pulls me back to the present.
"I… I'm sorry," I stammer, fumbling for a plausible excuse. "It must've been the day I wiped my phone. I had a virus." The lie rolls off my tongue awkwardly, and I force myself to meet his gaze, praying he'll buy it.
His expression softens. "So, you're not mad about the card thing?"
I shake my head quickly. "No, not at all."
Relieved, he leans back in his chair, flashing me one of his easy, charming smiles. "Good, good," he says, picking up his fork and cutting into the cake.
"Sit with me?" he asks casually.
I open my mouth to refuse, but his hand shoots up, signaling Sally. She waves me off with a smirk, clearly giving her blessing.
With a sigh, I pull out the chair opposite him and sit down, keeping my posture stiff.
"Cake?" he offers, gesturing to the plate.
"I'm good," I reply quickly, pressing my lips into a thin line.
He shrugs and takes a bite. My eyes linger on the movement of his lips before I snap myself out of it, clearing my throat.
"Troy," I begin. "You're a nice guy, but I don't want to lead you on. I have a boyfriend, and he wouldn't appreciate this."
He sets down his fork, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together. "I'm sorry. I should've told you earlier," I add.
To my surprise, he smiles, but with a slight twitch at the corner of his lips.
"No hard feelings, June," he says, leaning back with his gaze still on me. "Does your boyfriend let you have friends?"
"Yes," I reply without thinking.
"Great. Then we can be friends," he says flatly.
I nod, pushing back my chair. "I should get back to helping Sally."
Before he can respond, I walk away.
The bakery quiets as the last customer leaves, and I help Sally close up. She gives me a tired smile.
"You're good to go, June. I'll lock up."
"Thanks, Sally. See you tomorrow," I say, grabbing my bag and stepping outside into the cool night.
I stand on the curb, trying to hail a taxi, but the street is empty. The city feels unusually quiet as I tap my foot impatiently. I should've called one earlier, I think to myself as I check the time to see it's past nine at night.
Just as I'm about to give up and start walking, a car slows to a stop next to me. I glance over and my eyes meet Troy's. He leans across the front seat, giving me a warm smile.
"Hey, June. Need a ride?"
"I was waiting for a taxi," I reply, glancing down the street.
"Well, I'm right here. I do not live far from here, and I was heading over to a friend's place," he says. "I figured you could use a ride. Just as friends, of course."
I can't help but smile at his easygoing nature. "Alright. Thanks, Troy."
I get in, and he pulls back into traffic.
"You look like you're in a rush," Troy says as we drive through the quiet streets, his fingers tapping lightly on the steering wheel.
"It's been a long day. Sally was about to murder me for showing up late, and Rhea doesn't care because Sally is her mum, she won't do much to her." I laugh, leaning back against the seat with my eyes momentarily shut.
"I'm sure she'll forgive you," he says, and my eyes flick open to steal a glance at him. "You've got that 'sorry' face. It's cute, sexy and convincing. I mean I easily fell for it."
I roll my eyes. "I do not."
He chuckles, but the sound dies when he turns onto the road that leads to my street. I sit up at once, then I let out a sigh.
"Here's good," I say quickly, my hand already reaching for the door handle before he makes it to the entrance of my street.
Troy frowns slightly. "You sure? I can take you all the way home."
I shake my head, not wanting him to know where I live. "Yeah, this is fine. Just drop me off here."
He doesn't argue. Instead, he slows the car and stops right in front of the entrance of my street.
"Alright. Well, if you ever want to hang out, you know... just as friends," he says, giving me a wink.
I nod, offering him a small smile. "Sure. Thanks again, Troy."
As I close the door and watch him drive off, I start walking toward my building in the company of the dimly lit streetlights.
I'm only a few steps from the door when I hear the sound of a can being knocked down in the corner. A shadow stretches across the pavement in front of me under the streetlight.
I freeze, and my heart lurches in my chest. It is him. Whoever it was from last night.