Make the trip back up to my face before gasping. “Have you lost your damn mind?”
I bite into the side as if it were a tiny scone. “Yum.”
“Have you no shame?”
“Oh, I have shame, all right, just not when it comes to food.”
I take another bite, savoring:
The outraged look on her face.
The flavor of the cake and the frosting.
The shock and awe I’ve created by fishing food out of the trash and eating it.
Bet that’s a first for Prim and Proper Posey.
“You know what you sound like?” I swallow the bite in my mouth and grin. “You sound like a kindergarten teacher.”
Her nostrils flare before she lunches for the cake in my hands, grabbing whatever she can, and tossing it back into the trash.
“At least my students behave better than you.” She’s breathing hard as if she’s just been fucked in a sweaty round of sex.
I swallow the lump in my throat.
“Lady, you need a drink.”
Her eyes get wide, outraged. I know what I’ve said was risky, but it’s true. She shouldn’t be this mad about a baked item. It was a simple accident that won’t be repeated. Next time she makes a cake, I’ll ask before eating it. Jeez.
“Give it back.”
I shake my head. “No.”
Somehow, by the grace of God himself, Posey manages to get the cake back into the garbage bin with my hands still in the shape of holding it. It all happened so fast.
Posey goes one step further. She reaches for the aloe plant on the windowsill and dumps some of its dirt into the trash on top of the delicious, moist cake.
“There. Now you’re done eating it.” She’s so satisfied, smiling like the Cheshire cat.
“You monster,” I hiss. “What do you plan on servin’ your friend Jana now, eh?” I purposely fuck up her friend's name, knowing she’s good and riled up. The claws on this house cat are suddenly virile. Her audacity to toss that cake in the trash has my head spinning.
Then to add insult to injury, she throwsdirton it?
Something my mother would have done to my pops when he pissed her off.
“How about you not worry about what I’m gonna do for my friend Anna, and worry about the fact that I’m mad at you?”
Well, duh. I shift on my heels and raise my arms a bit to show off my palms. “Can I at least wash my hands?”
She’s blocking the sink.
They’re full of frosting, and while the frosting is tasty, it doesn’t beat the taste of actual cake: my favorite part of the cake iscake.
As Posey steps aside so I can get closer to the faucet, I catch a whiff of her. I hadn’t noticed her wearing any kind of perfume before, but I’m noticing it now.
She smells like…good.
She smells good.