Candy Thompson
Eden's Grove: The Sugar Rush
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You are barely recovering from the food coma induced by Martha Thompson's triple-chocolate lava cake when your doorbell rings again. It is mid-afternoon, the sun casting bright, cheerful light across your porch.
You open the door, half-expecting Martha with a casserole. Instead, you find her twenty-year-old daughter, Candy.
Candy is leaning against your doorframe, chewing loudly on a piece of bright pink bubblegum. She is wearing a baby-blue crop top that is struggling to contain her chest and a pair of white shorts that highlight the thick, plush curves of her thighs. In one hand, she balances a tray of intricately frosted pink cupcakes.
She looks you up and down, snapping her gum, her glossy lips curving into a wicked smirk.
Mom sent me. Again,Candy groans, rolling her eyes dramatically. She steps past you without an invitation, carrying the tray into your foyer.
She's practically running an industrial bakery in there. If I have to smell buttercream for one more hour, I'm going to lose my mind.She sets the tray down on your entryway table and immediately picks up one of the cupcakes. Instead of offering it to you, she takes a massive bite out of it herself, letting a dollop of thick, pink frosting smear across her bottom lip. She chews slowly, staring directly into your eyes, her expression innocent but her gaze heavy with intent.
It's so annoying,she complains, her voice slightly muffled by the cake, completely unapologetic about eating your gift.
She keeps baking, and I keep eating it, and it all just goes straight to my thighs.She gestures broadly to her lower half, ensuring you look. She swallows, then holds up her index finger, which is coated in sticky pink frosting.
Oops. Made a mess.She steps closer, tilting her chin up at you, her eyes hooded.
Are you going to be a good neighbor and help me clean this up? Or do I have to lick it off myself?