Cupcake

Mom always let me do the grocery shopping. It made sense, since I used the kitchen way more than she did. Plus, it meant she could sleep in on the weekend, saved her a trip, and she knew how much I loved coming here. What she didn’t know was how much it irked me when people put items back in the wrong place.

I spent at least ten minutes every Saturday moving things back to where they belonged on the shelves.

I stuck to the baked products aisle. It was my happy place, and I knew exactly where everything should be. Did I get weird looks from the store employees? Yeah, sometimes. But did they try to stop me? Heck no, I was basically doing their job for no pay.

“You’re welcome,” I’d said the one time I was approached by a manager. He had watched me a few minutes, nodded, then let me be.

Like I said. The situation was win-win. I was basically providing free labor while I shopped.

The spices were a mess today, so I spent most of my time on those. But it wasn’t until I was sorting the semi-sweet, dark, and milk chocolate chips into the appropriate boxes that something interesting happened. I was nearly finished when I heard a groan from the next aisle over.

I knew this place like the back of my hand, so it wasn’t a surprise to look down aisle fourteen and see the usual frozen meals, vegetables, and pizza.

What was a surprise?

The first thing I noticed was a person, a very male person, leaning into an open door. The groan came again as I walked closer. Curiosity—it would do me in one of these days, I thought. But the closer I got, the more familiar the figure became. I knew those forearms, those broad shoulders…

“Rhys?” I said. “Is that you?”

My voice must’ve startled him because he jerked back. Rhys emerged from the freezer, wearing a black ball cap, white tee, and gray sweatpants. His eyes were tired when they met mine. Strangely, it didn’t make him any less attractive.

“Cupcake,” he said. “How are you today?”

“Better than you, I think.”

Rhys yawned.

“I take it the SATs were just as boring and soul-sucking as usual,” I said.

“That”—he pointed to my face—“is a perfect description.”

“I try.”

He looked at the cart in front of me while I checked out the items in his arms. He had a few frozen dinners, a bag of bacon, carton of eggs, loaf of bread, and a huge six-pack of Powerade. Compared to Rhys, it looked like I was buying out the whole store.

“I cook a lot,” I said by way of explanation.

“I can see that,” Rhys replied. “At least someone in your house does. My parents usually get takeout, and the only things I can make are toast, scrambled eggs, and spaghetti.” He lifted his arm. “Hence the frozen meals.”

“Hmm.”

He nodded. “Yeah, they’re gross. Unlike those cake pops you gave me—they were delicious. When I got back to the locker room, all the guys on the team were asking for one.”

I smiled. “Did you share?”

“Hell no,” he said. “I could lie, say it’s because I didn’t have enough for everyone. But the truth is I wanted them for myself.”

“Because you were so hungry,” I put in.

Rhys shook his head. “Because you made them for me.”

I blinked.

“Looks like you’re going to be doing more baking,” he said.

Shaking off his last remark, I nodded. “Yeah, I have a lot of different dishes to make. I release at least one video a week, so I have to plan ahead.”

“If you ever need a taste tester, I’m your guy.”

Gah, as sweet as that was, I wished he hadn’t said it.

I’m your guy.

My inner hopeless romantic wanted to hear his words a different way, but I forced myself to be real. Rhys was just offering to try my food, nothing more.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, then gestured to the freezer. “What were you doing in there? When I walked up, I could’ve sworn your eyes were closed. Kind of looked like you were taking a nap.”

“Nah, just getting a little R & R.”

I bit back a grin. “With your head next to the frozen peas?”

“It’s refreshing, Cupcake. Like having your head on a cloud or something. Haven’t you ever done it before?”

“That would be a definite no,” I said.

“Well come here and try it,” he said, waving me over. “Trust me—you won’t regret it.”

Rhys held the door open to the refrigerated section and waited for me to step closer.

“This is silly,” I said, feeling a cool blast emit from the fridge. “It’s also probably not energy efficient, having the door open like that, letting out the cold.”

That earned me an eye roll. “Just try it, Cupcake. The sooner you do, the sooner I close the door.”

With a sigh, I took a few more steps and, feeling like everyone’s eyes were on me, put my cheek on the sack of peas inside. The cool wafts of air hitting my face were actually soothing, the chill traveling along my skin not altogether unpleasant. Rhys’s eyes were on me the whole time.

I exhaled a sigh, settling farther into the peas.

He cocked his chin as I pulled my head back a few moments later. The smile on my face wasn’t forced at all.

“That was nice,” I said.

“Told you. Next time you’re stressed, you know where to go.”

I scoffed. “As good as it felt, I probably won’t do it again. I’d be too self-conscious.”

Something struck me then.

“Hey…does that mean you were stressed?” I asked.

“No more than usual,” Rhys said.

I shot him a questioning look. Did that mean he was okay—or that he was always stressed? It could’ve been either, really. Before I could get an answer, Rhys changed the subject, his eyes moving to my cart.

“You mentioned some dishes,” he said. “Can you tell me what they are? Or is it a secret?”

“Sure,” I said, “though I don’t know if it’s that interesting.”

“This is for your vlog, right?”

My brows rose in surprise. “Yes… You know about Sugar & Spice Movie Reviews?”

Rhys gave a small shrug. “I may have checked it out, watched a few videos.”

What? When? I wanted to say. Exactly how many videos did you watch? Did you follow, like, or comment on any of them? Wow, even in my head, I sounded over-the-top. Simmer down, Ariel. The guy asked you a question and mentioned your vlog.

I had like twelve thousand followers. Rhys potentially becoming twelve thousand one wasn’t a big deal. But it feels like one, a voice in my mind whispered. Because it’s Rhys.

“Cupcake?” Rhys said, breaking me out of my thoughts.

“Sorry, I spaced out for a second,” I said and forced a laugh. “I’m actually doing a series of desserts based on movies around the world. My favorites are always romance and rom-coms, so yeah.” My cheeks flushed, but I forged ahead. “Each dessert will go with one of them.”

His eyes were bright. “That sounds cool.”

I pointed over my shoulder. “I actually have to grab a few more things, so…”

“Mind if I tag along?” Rhys readjusted the items in his arms. “I’m procrastinating, since I’ve got to write that paper when I get home.”

“And practice the dances,” I added.

His jaw ticked. “Yeah, and that. Lord help me.”

I gave a mental laugh.

“Okay,” I said. “It’s just a few more items.”

“Any almond bark?” he asked, sounding hopeful.

“Nope, sorry. It’s not on the list.”

“Aw, I was looking forward to more of those cake pops.”

His words made me smile. I was so glad he’d liked the treat.

Before continuing on, I grabbed the frozen peas, some corn, and broccoli. I had to buy frozen pizza, too—Mom loved those things. But they were a little farther down. Rhys and I said nothing as we walked side by side, but it wasn’t awkward. The silence felt comfortable. When I got to the place where they usually kept Mom’s favorite pizza, there was only one left, and it was on the highest shelf.

Wonderful, I thought.

Stepping forward, I reached up, rose to my fullest height. My fingertips barely touched the box—but it fell over, making it even harder to reach. I growled internally. My eyes searched the row for one of those stepladders, but there wasn’t one in sight. Okay then. Hyping myself up, I took a deep breath, bent my knees, and was just about to try again when a hand touched my waist.

“I got it,” Rhys said.

He was so close, I felt each of his words caress the skin of my ear. Goose bumps rose in reaction, and I prayed he wouldn’t notice. Rhys used the hand on my waist to steady himself as I held my breath. His other arm went around me, past my head, plucking the pizza off the shelf and bringing it back down. That was the first time I ever thought of a guy’s hands as attractive.

“Here you go,” he said, holding the box out to me, still standing too close.

I swallowed as I took it from him.

“Thanks,” I mumbled.

“No problem.”

It wasn’t until Rhys stepped back that I realized just how warm I was.

Ducking my head, I dropped the pizza into the cart and walked away, gathering the other items as fast as I could. I didn’t understand it. When we learned the waltz, Rhys had touched me for hours in the exact same spot. And yes, okay, I’d reacted. But this? This was ridiculous. You’d think I would’ve gotten used to his touch by now. But nope, my body still went up like fireworks.

And that was a problem.

I needed to get the heck out of there before I did something ridiculous like fall for Rhys Castle and his beautiful hands.

Friends, I reminded myself. You are trying to be his friend. And there was still his possibly-real possibly-fictional secret girlfriend or boyfriend to think about. If she or he, in fact, existed.

“So, what movies and what desserts?” he said, looking amused at my confusion. “For the around-the-world thing.”

All right, this was good, I thought. Desserts I could talk about all day.

“A whole bunch of different ones,” I said. “Right now, I know I’m doing molten lava cake with chocolate-covered strawberries for Strictly Ballroom, one of my all-time favorites. Seriously, it’s so underrated. Tiramisu for A Room with a View—the best and most romantic version with Helena Bonham Carter, of course. Crème brûlée for Amelie. I mean, what else would you make for that movie? And beignets and berries for French Kiss. It’s laugh-out-loud hilarious and so swoony.”

He gave a small grin. “Okay, I gotta admit, I’ve never even heard of any of those movies. But the food part sounded really good.”

My jaw dropped. “You’ve never seen any of them?”

I thought he had to be joking, but he shook his head as we joined the checkout line.

“I don’t have a ton of free time,” Rhys said quietly. “Are they on Netflix?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “But I’m sure they must be streaming somewhere. If not, they’re definitely worth a search.”

As we went through the line, I kept talking about the movies, trying to convince Rhys that he should watch them. Partly because I really believed anyone with a beating heart would enjoy those films and partly because when I got to talking about desserts or movies, sometimes it was hard to stop.

Everything Rhys bought fit into one bag. My purchases were divided into at least ten. As we walked to the exit, I was still rambling on about movies and why the recipes were so perfect for them when he stopped my cart with a hand.

My voice cut out as he loaded his arms with the bags containing my groceries.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

Rhys gave me a look. “What do you think? I’m carrying your bags to your car.”

I blinked. “You don’t have to. I can handle it.”

“I know,” he said, then turned his eyes to the parking lot. “Where’s your ride?”

“Over there,” I muttered, shaking my head as we walked across the lot to my Subaru. Rhys made carrying everything look easy when I knew it was anything but. “Seriously, I could’ve gotten those. I do groceries every Saturday.”

Rhys moved his gaze to mine. “It’s no problem. Think of it as payback for the pops.”

After I opened the trunk, he placed the bags in and then faced me.

“Can I ask you something?” he said.

“As long as it’s not too personal,” I joked.

“Why Cupcake?”

My brow scrunched. “I don’t understand. Why what?”

“I meant why do people call you that?” he said. “You make all these desserts, a ton of them more interesting than cupcakes. So where does the name come from? Are cupcakes your favorite or something?”

I drew in a breath, trying to ignore the pang in my chest.

Rhys couldn’t have known, but that question cut deeper than he could’ve imagined.

“My dad used to call me that,” I said.

He nodded but misunderstood. “Ah, kind of like my uncle calls me Hot Shot—though I’ve asked him a thousand times not to.”

“I guess.” I shrugged. “Dad left when I was seven. He liked to flip between names: Chubby Wubby, Miss Piggy, Cupcake. Sometimes, when he’d been drinking or was feeling extra mean, he called Mom and me ‘worthless.’ But yeah,” I said with a laugh, “Cupcake was the least offensive.”

“He sounds like a real jackass,” Rhys said.

The seriousness in his voice made my heart clench.

“What kind of parent says that stuff to his kid?”

“Mine, apparently,” I said.

Rhys shook his head. “You must hate it when people call you that.”

“Not really. The good news is I turned it into a positive. I love to bake, and my mom says even as a baby I had the sweetest disposition. The name fits. I own it. Now when people say it, I hardly even think of him anymore.”

I shot Rhys a smile and tried to lighten the mood.

“Plus, my cupcakes are to die for,” I added. “So there’s that.”

Rhys kept studying me, and after a minute, I began to fidget.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“Nothing,” he said. “Just trying to think of a new nickname for you.”

I lifted a brow. “Why? I said it doesn’t bother me.”

“Yeah, I know.” Rhys waved my words aside. “But I can’t keep calling you Cupcake, not now that I know the full story. For the record, your dad sucks.”

“No argument here,” I mumbled.

“Don’t worry,” Rhys said. “I’ll figure something out.”

“Or”—I lifted my hands—“you could just call me Ariel? It is my name, you know.”

“Yeah, but everyone deserves a cool nickname. The process can’t be rushed, though. It takes time.”

I blinked. “You’re taking this really seriously, huh?”

“Shh,” Rhys said and held up a hand, “I’m thinking.”

What a weirdo.

A very cute, sweet, and charming weirdo, I thought as Rhys narrowed his eyes, trying to come up with the perfect nickname.

Shifting back on my feet, I lifted a shoulder. “Well, I know you have a lot to do, and I should get these groceries home before they melt. Thanks again for your help. That was really decent of you.”

“No problem,” Rhys said. “After all, I am your prince.”

See what I mean? Totally cute.

“You should check out those movies I mentioned,” I said.

“I will,” he mumbled.

“After you practice the dances, of course.”

His brows lowered as I threw him a grin.

“You teasing me?”

“I would never,” I said and got into my car to start the engine. Rolling my window down, I threw him a wave. “I’ll see you later, Rhys.”

He stood there, watching me a moment.

“I will practice,” he said.

“I know,” I said back.

“Next time we meet, I’ll be able to dance circles around anyone on Homecoming Court.”

I nodded, speaking without a trace of sarcasm this time. “I know, Rhys,” I said. “I believe in you.”

“Glad to hear it.” Rhys’s lips lifted in a slow smile. “Drive safe, Princess.”

A little thrill went through me at that.

As far as nicknames went, I thought as he walked away, it wasn’t the worst. And when Rhys said it, there was so much warmth in his eyes that…yeah. Princess.

I didn’t hate it. I didn’t hate it at all.