Small Pleasures Novels & Stories

Whenever he said something funny, she laughed so hard her shoulders shook, even reaching out to lightly slap his thigh. It looked less like conversation and more like flirting. When we arrived at the private room, Carrie casually handed the menu to Gabe. "You're my childhood friend. You should know what I like without me having to say it." Gabe rested his chin against her neck. "Of course. I even know how many moles you have on your body." I silently took a seat to the side. Not a single dish on the table was something I could eat. Gabe filled my glass with wine, then picked up his own.

Only a man who is worthy of us can see the value we truly possess. "It does matter. He broke your heart. You are allowed to grieve. You are allowed to eat chocolate and watch bad movies. And that's exactly what we're going to do. I'll call Freddie, and have him send over the best chocolate. Model Perfect lets the models get special childcare samples from around the world, but only at Christmas time." Rosa agrees with a twitch of a crooked smile. She sits on the couch in my room and crosses her arms. Within twenty minutes, Freddie is at the house with a box of special chocolates.

Reese is up at 630 a.m. She wants to have plenty of time to eat and dress before Ali arrives to pick her up. She can’t believe how lucky she is to have landed a job at the Butterfly building working for Luca Myles. Luca Myles is not only good looking, but he is smart and well mannered, she thought. “And Hot!” she said out loud.

And why are you being a sneaky little fox, playing tricks on me again? And why the hell am I finding it so cute? Jake felt that something must be wrong with his head. Ryder lowered her head and grabbed a bag of chips and opened it. Only then did Jake notice what this girl had done. She had laid down a blanket on the ground and was sitting on top of it. There were different snacks thrown on the blanket making it look as if she was having a picnic. Ryder dug her hand into the bag of chips and shrugged. "I will buy flowers and flower seeds in a few days."

“Then that’s worth more than any peace treaty.” We ate slowly, letting the warmth of the food and the easy rhythm of our conversation fill the space. We talked about small things, a book he’d been meaning to read, the new coffee shop that opened near his office, the stray cat that had decided his balcony was its new home. And in between those ordinary things, something extraordinary began to take root, a fragile kind of understanding. At one point, the waitress passed by and refilled our water glasses. “You two are celebrating something?” she asked with a grin.

he called from the kitchen, a playful smile on his face. Surrounded by the gentle hum of the city and the promise of a shared meal, I couldn't help but feel a deep sense of contentment. "Surprise me," I said, realizing that the beauty of the evening extended beyond the cityscape—it was in the simplicity of the shared moments that made this night uniquely ours.

I spend most of Saturday, getting everything ready for Sunday. After cleaning the apartment and doing laundry, I drive to the mall and pick out some flavored massage oil and scented candles. When I get home, I make a playlist on my IPOD of mood music; slow ballads and light jazz. I want this to be perfect. I want this to be the most memorable day Jasmine has ever spent. By the time I leave for work, I have everything ready. "Hi, Mike." Amber says, walking up as I clock in for work. "We don't seem to work together much anymore." She smiles.

I quickly waved a cab home and the moment I got to the door, for once in a while, I appreciated the mixed scent of lavender and light pesticide, the one Anya used for the plants. But the place was somewhat out of place, the drawer was pulled out and things were on the floor. My eyes caught something unruly on the floor. A bra? The things sprawled on the floor made my mind spiral, it didn’t look like a robbery yet, the jacket on the side, the scent of musk and light mix of lavender made me wonder if this was something greater on the lines of pleasure. Then I heard sounds coming from Anya’s room. Well..she’s meant to have fun at times

“Please. I’m starving.” We packed up the books and notes. Drove to his apartment. It was small but clean. Books stacked on every surface. A fancy coffee maker on the counter. He went straight to the kitchen like he did this all the time. Cracked eggs. Toasted bread. Cut up fruit. Simple. Perfect. No big show. Just food. We sat at his little table. Our knees bumped under it every time one of us moved. He laughed at my dumb jokes about how organic chem was trying to murder me. Asked about my life.

POV: Scarlett Peace, it turned out, was made of small things. Not grand things, not the dramatic, definitive moments she had learned to brace for. Just the small, particular, accumulating texture of ordinary days that didn't ask anything of her except to be in them. Coffee went cold because she'd drifted somewhere in her own thoughts and forgotten it. Rain against the windows at night,not threatening, just present. Julian saying something ridiculous and the involuntary laugh it pulled from her before she could decide whether it deserved one. Luna barefoot in the kitchen, moving to music only she could hear, while Camille watched her with an expression of performative exasperation that convin