Sierra Lancaster has had an agonizingly mediocre life. She grew up in a happy home, made loyal friends, graduated college, and is now pursuing her dream of running her own bakery. Boring, right? A story like this wouldn't be one for the books. At le...
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"Ahhhhh!"
I press a hand to my chest when the whole apartment suddenly goes dark and I lose sight of the piping bag I was squeezing. My hands freeze on their own accord because I can't see for crap and I'll probably launch vanilla frosting somewhere if I keep this up.
"Can't a girl make cupcakes in peace?" I groan.
Then I stop because what if I forgot to pay the bills or something? I'm not exactly hopping rich but at least I'm not ass crack broke either. I paid the bills...right?
There's a loud bang on my door and I scream again, blindly holding the piping bag out as a weapon. Why, why is it that every time I'm in trouble I have the crappiest weapon choices? I'm too young to die.
And yes, thirty-years-old is young. Shut it, tiny humans.
"Sierra?" This time the knocking is accompanied by a voice I recognize. "Open the door."
"Okay!" I call out and set the piping bag down.
It takes a solid minute to find the door in the dark. It doesn't help that it's nighttime and while the moonlight usually shines exceptionally from my floor-to-ceiling windows, it's a cloudy night so there's no light whatsoever. My eyes haven't even adjusted to the dark yet so I keep crashing into things. First my pinky gets caught on the edge of the couch and I jump and curse, muttering under my breath and hobbling to the door. Then I bump my elbow on the corner of a wall and yelp, holding it close to my body and resisting the urge to just sob. By the time my hand meets the doorknob and turns over the lock, I'm pretty much half-broken.
"Hey," I mumble miserably. Holden has a flashlight in his hands so I can see his face and the way his mouth tugs down as he inspects me.
"You okay?" He raises a brow.
I'm in my "baker" pyjamas—sleep shorts with donuts on them and a shirt that has "I donut like you" written across my chest. A bra-less chest, I should add. I cross my arms self-consciously when Holden's gaze stalls there for a moment. Boobs this big with no bra on? Not very attractive. Gravity isn't the best look on my natural milkers and they're a huge insecurity of mine this way. I clear my throat so he can look up at me again.
"I'm fine." I finally notice the dark hallway and frown. "Did the lights go out in the entire complex?"
"Yeah." He leans against the door frame, getting comfortable. "Thought I'd check on you. See if you're okay."
"Oh. Yeah, I'm okay. I was in the middle of making cupcakes for tomorrow but there goes that, I guess."
"Your bakery is getting busy."
"Customers everyday." I grin so wide I can barely feel my cheeks. Holden smiles back.
"Take a break then. I ordered a pizza not too long ago and haven't had a chance to eat yet."
