Enchanted (Billionaire Boys Club #2) | ongoing

Chapter 59

It was nice, hanging out with her. She's friendly and funny and we have a lot more in common than I would've guessed.

"Why? I whisper back.

"Just do it."

I tug on Dare's tie, bringing his eyes back to me. "Darius?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"Did you like the cupcakes me and Thea made last week?"

He pauses. "Hm?"

"The cupcakes? Were they good? You guys ate all of them so I didn't get to have any. It was a new recipe. Were they good?"

Me and her went up to my room for a few minutes after they'd been cooling down but when we returned, they were all gone.

"Mhm." He answers wordlessly, looking away from me.

"Really?"

He clears his throat. "They were great, darling."

I then notice Jeremy's laughter beside me.

Frowning, I turn to him, my brows furrowing as I watch him stifle his mirth with a mist.

"What?"

He goes to reply but just falls into another pit of barely restrained humour.

"What?" I ask again, glancing between the two of them.

"Ignore him." Dare tells me.

"Told you." Jere says, coming down from it.

"Told me what? I don't get it." I'm still looking back and forth.

"Tells. Those cupcakes were bad."

My eyes widen. "What?"

"Hearst." Darius hisses, glaring at him. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"He threatened us." Jeremy goes on. "He blackmailed us with bodily harm if we were to say anything and not eat them all."

"You did what? Wait, but... I thought we did everything right..."

"Malysh..." He starts, unable to find the remaining words.

I look up at Jeremy again and he offers me a grin, holding up his finger and twirling it around.

"Why?" I then question Dare. "You could've told me. You didn't have to eat them."

"Of course I fucking did." He drags a hand, his unoccupied one, through his hair.

"He wanted to protect your fuzzy little feelings." Jeremy rubs his knuckles lightly over my head and I swat him away, smoothing down the strands.

"Goddamn you, asshole." Darius growls at him.

"Wait, how bad were they?" My words become slightly hurried. I swear, I swear I followed every step correctly. I'm a good baker. I've tasted every other dessert I've made and they've tasted fine. And Althea was there, too. So how come this ended terribly?

"On a scale of one to ten?" Jere tilts his head.

"Jeremy."

"What? She wants to know."

"I do." I agree.

"Like a one."

"What?" I practically squeak.

"Stop fucking talking, motherfucker."

"Don't take it personally though, sweetheart. It wasn't your fault."