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My heart riots in my chest; it’s a caged bird pounding furiously against my ribcage in an effort to escape. “What are you talking about?” I hiss.
“I call you cupcake, and the next thing I know you’re in my kitchen baking them for my roommate.” He squints. “Seems a little calculated.
“I thought you didn’t eat junk?” I deflect.
“One won’t hurt.”
Like one kiss?
The thought burns my brain.
Is that what ran through his mind moments before his mouth crushed to mine?
My breathing grows shallow at the memory, and I curse myself for thinking about that night in his presence. I’m supposed to be acting like nothing happened. Pretending. Forgetting.
I shake my head as my thoughts twirl like a baton. “It’s probably best if you practice some restraint, don’t you think?” I scrub harder at the counter. “Once you have one, you’ll want more.”Shit. What am I saying?
I want to take the words back, to swallow my tongue.
I close my eyes and try to focus on my breathing, grateful he can’t see my expression from where he’s standing behind me because clearly, I’m losing my mind.
He hums in response, and the sound rumbles in my chest.
“But restricting myself will only make me crave one that much more,” he says.
The butterflies from earlier erupt from hibernation, returning with a vengeance.
Are we still talking about cupcakes? Is he flirting, toying with me?
I have no idea, but I refuse to be his plaything. I can just imagine him laughing about this later. Obviously, his massive ego assumes the kiss affected me, and he’s simply testing his theory to see just how much.
Anger spikes in my veins at the thought. I’ll be damned if he’s going to win. “Ah, I see your dilemma,” I say, my voice cool. “But there’s just one problem?”
He moves even closer, hands landing on the counter on either side of me, caging me in. All it would take is to turn my head and our lips would touch. “What’s that?” he whispers, his breath tickling the back of my neck.
“These cupcakes are off-limits. They’re too good for you,” I say as I shift and start piling them into the large plastic container I found in one of the cupboards.
“Too good for me, huh?” He takes a tiny step back, and I’m both relieved and resentful.
“Yep,” I say, pushing the container aside and turning toward him. “They don’t belong to you. They’re meant for someone else's mouth.”
Meant for someone else’s mouth?I inwardly roll my eyes.Smooth, Brynn.
“But theycouldbelong to me.” He makes a move for the cupcakes behind me, but I block him.
“No, they can’t.” His hand darts out again, but I swat it away. “You can’t just claim somebody’s cupcakes.”
His brow furrows, and he focuses on me, his tone gruff as he says, “Brynn, give me a cupcake.”
“No.” I grip the counter behind me, forming a shield between me and the cupcakes like I’m a mama bear and these are my cubs. I’ve clearly come unhinged. “You can’t have one.”
“Brynn . . .” he says in a warning tone.
“Jace . . .” I mock, arching a brow.
His aqua eyes glitter like brilliant pools of water on a hot summer day when his arm darts out without warning. He reaches behind me toward the container while I squeal and grapple for a hold on it.
I should’ve known he’d have catlike reflexes.
