“I need to try some of that pie,” he tells me, sliding my coffee across the table until it’s in front of me. “Markus is ridiculously territorial over them, and I must know if they’re as good as they look.”

Lily stares at him. Jack stares at me. Liv stares at her nails.

“I don’t know, I feel like that other guy might murder me for sharing his pie.”

“He might murder you for eating his pie,” Markus himself assures me, as he sits at the other end of the table.

Again, Lily and her friends are astounded.

“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous today. The actual culprit will be the one to pay for it,” he says, glaring at the bubbly, pink-haired girl who smirks at him from behind the counter while serving an older woman—likely a teacher.

I would not want to be in Dez’s shoes right now. It’s wild to me that she’d push the buttons of a guy like that.

Is it?

My mind flies back to last night. To the jolt of electricity pressed right at my clit when I earned a punishment. At the time, it was overwhelming. So much so I screamed. I must have had tears in my eyes. Today, the only response is—embarrassingly—my thighs clenching, and my core heating at the memory.

Yes, it was a lot. It didn’t feel good…exactly. But it felt. Right there.

Maybe Dez likes earning punishments.

I cut a little piece of pie—I’m not that generous—and lift it to Keller’s mouth, before trying it myself. My eyes widen.

Oh, this is good. Like very, very good. There’s a layer of something creamy, but a bit solid, like creme patissiere, and then a fruit coulis of sort, tangy and fresh. Then, the slightest hint of chocolate, all with the most perfect crust.

“No wonder you want to marry her,” I tell Markus honestly.

“Right?” he smirks.

“If she keeps saying no, can I marry her?” I joke, a little unsure.

I feel like there’s a fifty percent chance the guy might flip on me. But he just laughs. “Your funeral, Barbie.”

“Seriously, she should be a pro. Is she studying culinary arts?”

“No, believe it or not. She just locks herself in the kitchen and tries stuff.” He stares at Dez like he wants to eat her up.

“I’d love to spy on her. I mean, I like to bake, but I’ve never even seen anything like this, outside of fancy cooking shows or Instagram pictures.”

“You bake?” Keller asks.

I lift an eyebrow. “Oh, you didn’t know?”

The corner of his mouth hikes up. “I didn’t, actually.”