Dunkin and Donuts by Daralyse Lyons Read Free Book Online

an entire Saturday. I’m not possessed of enormous breasts. My B cups runneth over and my C cups are only half full. And, because I am body-conscious female, I don’t own many bathing suits. I have a too tight one-piece, a threadbare tankini and an adorable, extremely modest, two-piece that clasps in the front.
    So there I am awash in suds and talking to Saint Sebastian’s principal about an upcoming class field trip I’d like to take the kids on.
    “You don’t think the Please Touch Museum is a nightmare waiting to happen?”
    “Not at all. It’s an opportunity for learning. Besides, Ronnie and I would go and we’d get at least three or four parent volunteers. The adult-student ratio could be as small as one to four.”
    “It’s not a bad idea.” Principal Hane scratches her head pensively. “I’ll think about it.”
    As I turn away, one of my students is fiddling with a wayward hose.
    “It won’t work, Ms. Ross.”
    “It should,” I say, taking it out of young Johnny’s hands.
    As I work to untangle the hose, someone shouts out from the distance, someone I don’t see and will never forgive. “This hose isn’t turned on!”
    The nozzle is pointed straight at my chest when, suddenly, it expels a great stream of water directly at my chest and, surprise, surprise, the delicate front-fastening clasp bursts wide open revealing not one but two of my extremely cold—the water is icy and I am wet—breasts. I turn wildly around. My nipples point at whoever let loose the offending water as if to chastise them. Momentarily stunned, I am immobilized for several seconds before I frantically force my top back together and flee the scene.
    I feel like such a disaster. When I return to the carwash ten minutes later, wearing a Save the Whales T-shirt taken from the gym bag in the back of my trunk, no one says a word.

Chapter Thirteen

    “Only you.” Brice laughs when I tell him about the flashing incident at the carwash.
    When he laughs, I can’t help but chuckle too. It’s a reflex.
    “It’s not funny,” I protest.
    “Then why are we both laughing?”
    “Because we’re deeply disturbed individuals.”
    “Well, that goes without saying, girlfriend. But I think we’re cracking up because this is one hysterical situation.”
    My best friend has the power to make me smile—always. He’s my emotional BandAid and he never judges me. Besides, since he’s gay, there’s never any sexual tension to worry about. I love Dunkin to death and he has the power to take away my pain, but I sometimes feel like I don’t totally want to expose the worst parts of myself to the man I’m in love with. I mean, it’s hard to be so exposed.
    With Brice, I can be my most bumbling, vulnerable self. He’s seen me at my best and at my worst. Speaking of worst…
    “Robin called me today,” Brice says, changing the subject to his own juicy topic du jour .
    “I hope you didn’t answer.”
    “I couldn’t. I was working.”
    Is he seriously swooning over his ex? Brice’s moony-eyed expression makes me want to throttle him. He’s spent the last six months trying to let go of his asshole ex-boyfriend. There’s no way he’s going back to Robin if I have any say in the matter. But, before I can open my mouth to speak, Brice fills the silence.
    “He left me the sweetest message.”
    “Which you of course promptly deleted…”
    Robin, Brice’s boyfriend of five years, has a history of repeated insensitivities and infidelities. Most of their relationship involved Brice crying and Robin lying. Suffice it to say, I am not a fan.
    “Listen to it.” Brice puts his phone on speakerphone and hits play.
    “Hey… It’s me. I love you and I miss you. I know I hurt you, but you’re the best thing that ever happened to me and I want you in my life. I’ve changed and I’ll do anything to get you back. Please, Brice, call me.”
    I growl at the phone. “You haven’t changed,” I say as if Robin can somehow magically hear