Sweet to the Core by Amy Aislin

Author:Amy Aislin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Amy Aislin

Using the light of their cell phones, they’d done a quick clean-up before dressing in underwear and hoodies that Clark fished out of his dresser. Clark had dug up a handful of flashlights, then opened a couple cans of SpaghettiOs, scooping the room temperature noodles into two bowls. They sat facing each other on Clark’s bed, the Uno deck between them, holding a flashlight each with three more strategically placed around the room.

Dev sat cross-legged, bowl cradled on his lap, and attempted to fan out his twenty-plus cards. Clark, the sneaky bastard, had placed a draw-three card, a draw-four card, and then a second draw-four card, all in a row. Added to the cards Dev already had, it was a challenge just to hold them all.

Clark added another draw-four wild card, forcing Dev to pick up additional cards and skip a turn, changed the color to blue, and dropped a blue number-three card onto the pile.

“Uno.”

“Motherfucker,” Dev grumbled.

Clark waggled his eyebrows. “Give me your worst, mini mouse.”

Growling under his breath, Dev did. He played the reverse card, the skip-a-turn card, another skip-a-turn card. How was it that with all the cards in his hands, he didn’t have a single one that would force Clark to pick up more? He dropped every specialty card he had that would keep play with him, and when he was done, he slapped down a wild card with a flourish and yelled, “Yellow!” hoping Clark’s remaining card was anything but.

Clark put his last card on the pile, a yellow number eight.

“Ugh.” Hanging his head back, Dev groaned at the ceiling. “How did you win three times in a row in a stupid game of chance?”

Clark leaned over the pile of cards between them to kiss him, a quick peck to Dev’s pouting lips. “Hate to break it to you, mini cannoli, but one cannot win Uno on luck alone. It takes at least a little bit of strategy. Of which you obviously have none, as evidenced by your work schedule.”

“I see what you did there.” Dev pointed his spoon at him. “Comparing my lack of Uno strategy with my lack of strategy at the bakery.”

“Clever, am I right?”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” Dev popped the last bite of SpaghettiOs into his mouth, grimacing at the taste, and rose to move the bowl onto the dresser next to Clark’s.

“Have you given any thought to an extra baker?” Clark asked, gathering the cards into a single pile.

“Nope. I’ve had other things on my mind, what with the contest and the storm.”

Dev hadn’t often been in Clark’s bedroom. The last time was probably when Clark had bought the place ten or fifteen years ago and had showed it off to his friends. Being here now, the two of them alone together in a dark room lit only by flashlights while the storm wreaked havoc outside . . .

It was oddly intimate.

There was a small pile of dirty laundry next to the dresser, a stack of what appeared to

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