Cupcake

Mom coughed, shot me a look, and I got the message.

“Rhys, this is my mom,” I said, hopping up to make the introductions. “Mom, this is Rhys Castle. He’s my partner for Homecoming.”

Rhys nodded. “We met on the porch.”

“We sure did.” Mom’s smile was bright. “When I got here, Rhys was standing there about to ring the doorbell. He says he’s here to return some of the movies you loaned him. Isn’t that nice?”

“It is nice.” I turned my attention to Rhys. “But you know, you could’ve given them back at school, saved yourself the trip.”

“I would have,” he said, “but I haven’t seen much of you the past couple days.”

That was because I’d been avoiding him ever since the parade—which I hoped he hadn’t noticed.

“I kind of thought you might be avoiding me.”

Ugh.

“Why would I do that?” I forced a laugh. “Hey, how did you know where I live?”

“Your friend Toni,” he said and ran a hand through his hair. “She said you’d had a bad day, that maybe I should stop by and check on you.”

Good gravy on a cracker. I gave a mental sigh. I’d been texting Toni on and off, telling her about the dress debacle. Apparently, she’d seen that as an SOS, but instead of coming herself, she’d enlisted Rhys’s help. Awesome.

“Well, that was nice of her,” I said. “But as you can see, I’m fine.”

Rhys nodded. “Your ankle doing okay?”

My mind leaped back to the day he’d carried me down the hall, and I couldn’t stop the blush if I tried.

“It’s much better,” I said.

“Glad to hear it.”

Mom spoke up then, pointing over her shoulder. “You’ll both have to excuse me. I’ve got work to do, lesson plans to create, books to pick out for the kids. Nice to finally meet you, Rhys.” She smiled. “I’ve heard such good things.”

Thanks for that, Mom.

Rhys nodded. “Nice meeting you, Ms. Duncan.”

“You two have fun,” she said and threw me a wink.

I shook my head. “Bye, Mom.”

Once she was gone, I looked back at Rhys, who gestured to the TV.

“What are you watching?” he asked.

I shrugged. “It’s a British mini-series called North & South.”

“Is this another one of your favorites?”

“No,” I said. “It’s the favorite. My number one of all-time. I could watch Margaret and Mr. Thornton fall in love forever and never get tired of it.”

Rhys cocked his head. “What dessert would you pair it with?”

I smiled at the question. How was it this guy just got me? “Definitely a traditional afternoon tea.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s this awesome thing the Brits do,” I explained, quickly pulling it up on my phone to show him. “There’s a tray with three tiers, and each one has something awesome. Little sandwiches, scones, cakes, and pastries, and you can pick your favorite tea, too.”

“Sounds like something my mom would like,” Rhys said as he skimmed the pictures. “She loves anything from England.”

I laughed. “Who doesn’t? And ooh, I knew I liked her.”

Rhys met my eyes. “She liked you, too—my whole family did. Even Zach, and you saw what a little punk he can be.”

Warmth filled my chest at his words.

“I liked them a lot, too,” I said, leaving out the most important part about how it was him I liked best of all.

“That’s the other reason I came actually,” Rhys continued. “I need to ask a favor.”

My eyebrows went up in surprise. “Okay, I’m listening.”

“Can you teach me how to bake a cake?” he asked. “My mom’s birthday is next week, and I want to do something special.”

Be still my heart. This guy was something else.

“After I told my parents what an awesome baker you are,” he added, “it just kind of clicked. Mom’s sappy—she’s loved everything we made her since preschool. But with your help, I thought this could be really good and unexpected.”

“Of course I’ll help!” I said. “What flavors does she like?”

He thought about it a second. “Chocolate. She definitely loves chocolate.”

“You’re in luck. I just happen to have a recipe for the best chocolate cake ever.” I gestured for him to follow me into the kitchen. “It’s my go-to for birthdays. My grandma made it the best, but mine is close.”

“Let’s hope I’m better at cooking than I am at dancing,” Rhys said.

I reached up and pulled down my recipe book.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to do it?” I asked, flipping to the right page and laying the book down on the counter. “I’d be more than happy to make this for you.”

Rhys stared at me a moment.

“For your mom, I mean.”

“Thanks Princess, but no.” He held up a hand. “I’m sure you would do it better, but I want this to be from me, you know?”

I did.

And gah if I didn’t feel a pang in my heart at his thoughtfulness.

Rhys was going to make some girl very happy someday.

“So, we’ll just do a trial bake,” I said. “No problem.”

“Okay, where do we start?” he said.

“Here.” I handed him an extra apron. “Put this on.”

His eyes traveled over the garment then to my face. “Do I have to? It looks like a dress.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at the wary look in his eyes. “If you don’t want to get flour on your clothes, I highly recommend it,” I said.

Rhys watched as I slipped my apron on, then he finally gave in. With a sigh, he put it over his head, tying the strings around his back. But it kept falling open because he didn’t tie it tight enough. With an eye roll, I reached around him to grab the strings.

Unfortunately, I didn’t realize how close that would bring us until it was too late.

I might as well have been hugging him. The scent of clean soap, sandalwood, and something uniquely Rhys filled up my senses. He smelled good, really good. I could feel his eyes on me as I tried to keep my distance while untying the strings then brought them around the front, quick to form the knot.

“There,” I said, taking a step back, hoping I didn’t sound as frazzled as I felt. “Now you’re ready to cook.”

“Kiss my Cupcake?” He read the slogan on his chest then looked up. “I like it. And is yours…” Rhys squinted as he took in my outfit.

“Little-Mermaid-inspired? Yes,” I said, straightening the material. “Mom got it for me; she loves all things Disney. And I love her, so I wear it.”

His mouth turned up in a half smile. “She told me she loved football. We talked about that a little on the porch.”

My brows lowered. “Exactly how long were you two out there?”

“Not long,” he said.

I wondered if they’d talked about me but was too chicken to ask.

“She told me some interesting things,” he added. “Mentioned a kids baking challenge you were in? I’d love to see that sometime.”

Over my dead body, I thought.

“Eh, it wasn’t a big deal.” Shaking myself, I went back into baker mode. “Okay, so the first thing you’ll do is preheat the oven then get all the ingredients and tools you’ll need: bowls, measuring cups, mixer, spoons, that sort of thing. You can grab the milk and eggs.” I pointed to the fridge. “And I’ll get the other stuff.”

Rhys nodded, and in no time, we had everything we needed.

“Next step,” I said, “is to measure out and put the flour, sugar, baking soda, and cocoa powder in a bowl. Then sift them together.”

It was slightly more difficult to complete the task because I was aware of Rhys’s eyes on me the whole time.

“What can I do?” he asked.

“You want to crack the eggs into a second bowl while I melt the butter? Maybe put on a pot of coffee?”

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, he jumped into action. I wasn’t used to sharing the kitchen with someone else, but this was actually nice. Rhys watched as I added the softened butter to the eggs.

“Now add the vanilla extract,” I said.

Maybe it was just me, but he looked so cute as he tried to measure just the right amount. I let him mix those together along with a cup of coffee until it was as smooth as possible. We slowly added our dry ingredients to the wet mixture, with Rhys pouring and me mixing.

“The batter gets poured into two circular pans, and then we’re good,” I said. “Be careful with this part, though. The bowl can be kind of heavy.”

I’d started to lift the bowl when suddenly Rhys’s hands were beside mine.

“Thanks,” I said.

As the mixture went into the pans, it spread evenly like usual. We’d already lined them with Crisco and flour, so the cake wouldn’t stick when it was time to come out. But I barely paid that any mind. My attention was focused on the way our fingers touched, just slightly, his thumb to my pinky. But that touch, plus having him right behind me, was enough to make my whole body warm.

“Princess,” he said.

The feel of his breath hitting my neck made me weak in the knees.

“Hmm?” I asked.

“I think we need to stop, or it’s going to overflow.”

I looked down, saw that he was right, and with a gasp, we righted the bowl.

“Er, yeah,” I said with a laugh, putting some space between us. “That’s good. You should always pay attention when you bake. If not, bad things can happen.”

Rhys put the pans in the oven then turned back to me.

“And now we wait,” I said. “In thirty-five to forty minutes, it turns into a beautiful cake. I can give you the recipe for that and the frosting. The cake has to cool, and the frosting has to set up before you add it. Long as you follow the instructions, you should be good.”

“Thanks,” he said. “Want to dry while I wash?”

I blinked. “We have a dishwasher for that.”

Rhys scoffed then gently pushed me aside. “If there’s one thing I know, it’s how to wash dishes. Come on, Princess. The dishwasher never gets them as clean as a little elbow grease.”

I shrugged, and again, with both of us working, we quickly finished the task. Once we were settled in the living room, I wasn’t sure what to do next. His presence, having a boy in my house, was a novelty. The fact that he’d asked me out…that felt like a freaking miracle.

So why was I hesitating to say yes?