⚠️Mature and Explicit content⚠️
"This is wrong ,Tristan" I breathed out, putting my thumb on his lips.
"I don't know what you're saying, Vera. Nothing has ever felt this right." He said, before smashing his lips on mine in the most devouring way.
*...
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"Do you have any previous experience with baking?" I asked the same question for the millionth time today.
"Um...no, but I have experience with other stuff. I can show you." The strawberry blonde boy licked his lips.
Seriously, I almost gagged.
"Yeah? And I can show you how far my mixer can go up your ass!" And he was gone.
It's been 5 hours since I started taking the 'applications'. It's either fuckboys who flirt, people who pass by and enter out of boredom or arrogant bastards that I wouldn't trust to hold my drink. But there was that girl, Aisha. She was an immigrant from Syria and had shown me her skills in baking. Her talents in making middle-eastern desserts and appetizers make you moan when you taste it.
I was in a haze and didn't hear someone enter the shop. I looked up and saw a young girl, tears streaming down her rosy cheeks. "Hey, hey...are you okay? Did somebody hurt you?" I turned around the cashier and ran my hands down her arms.
"I n-need a ph-phone." She was sobbing.
I reached to grab my phone from my back pocket and handed it to her, but her hands were trembling.
"Can you tell me the number?"
She managed to say the number, but every time that I typed it, Tristan's contact would appear. I took a good look at her. She had two suitcases next to her. I looked at her face- long ginger hair, light green eyes- she didn't look exactly like him, but her features were familiar. He told me earlier that she was coming to visit. His sister...
"Are you Morgan?" She looked up, slightly wide eyed.
***
When Morgan told Trista what happened, Morris drove us to the mansion. Turned out that her phone was stolen from her by some assholes after she landed in Manhattan. She raced after them but they tried to harass her, so she ran until she found the bakery. What a coincidence that Tristan's sister would get lost and come to my shop.
We were sitting in the backseat. I turned my head to look at her, and she was looking outside the window. It must be horrible; what she went through when she'd just landed. She wasn't more than 17 years old. I wanted to give her a hug. I was about to, but we arrived.
We both got out of the car. Morris took her suitcases inside the mansion. Tristan was standing outside, eyes drenched with concern. He opened his arms and his sister hugged him while sobbing. I swear I felt my heart melting. I didn't want to awkwardly stand there so I smiled his way and headed inside to give them space to catch up.
I had my final exam in two days. After I finished high school in 2 years, had a scholarship and attended law school, I decided to take a masters program. I wanted to earn a masters in Criminal Law and Legal so that it might help me in getting a good job that would earn me enough money to help my family, the bakery. So yeah, call me a nerd however you want. Only I'm far from it.
