"What?"
She turned to him and her face was playful again and whatever it was when her fingers were on him was gone.
"You asked me if I still never swore."
Ah, he mouthed.
"So yeah, I burn myself at my job and I swear. But I guess I still can't swear in front of you."
Fletcher gave her an odd look. "I didn't realize not swearing in front of me was a thing."
"I did it once when I was at your house and your mom gave me a stern look so I never did it again around you."
"Really?"
She shrugged and grabbed another cupcake out of the holder. "OK, this one is a cappuccino. Do you like coffee flavored stuff? Oh, of course you do."
His hand paused in midair, about to grab the half of the cupcake she was offering to him. "What do you mean of course I do?"
She placed the cupcake in his hand, her fingers brushing against his palm, her soft smile brighter than the setting sun.
"You liked the coffee chocolate cookies I used to make for you."
Fletcher did like those cookies. In fact, they were one of his favorites. Not as good as Samantha's Lemon Delight cupcakes, but they were near the top.
She finally pulled her hand away from his and he ate his half of the cupcake, the bitterness of the coffee flavor and the sweetness of the cake swirling together in his mouth. Samantha really did have a knack for picking the best cupcake flavors.
"This does kind of remind me of your cookies," he said. "I'm glad I could give you an excuse to take a break from cupcakes and make cookies like you wanted to."
She crinkled her nose. "I hate making cookies. I only made them because you liked them."
Fletched watched in awe as she took her half of that little mini cupcake and put it in her delicious looking mouth while trying to process what she had said to him. All this time, he thought he was doing her a favor by eating her cookies when she wanted to do something different, but she was only making them for him?
Pieces started to click into place in Fletcher's head and he wondered if what he was thinking was true, that maybe she had feelings for him back then the way he had feeling for her.
Maybe those feelings were roaring back now. Because Fletcher shouldn't be looking at her like this, thinking about her like this, dreaming about her like this. And yet all he wanted to do was kiss her.
Her hair was blowing in the wind and he instinctively reached out to tuck it behind her ear. But when he tried to pull his hand away, he let it linger on her cheek instead. It was a moment or two, but it was a moment too long because he couldn't stop the pull she had on him. The physical need he had to touch her.
So Fletcher leaned in and kissed her.
She tasted like coffee and sugar and chocolate and everything delicious and amazing. Her lips were soft and warm, not like the chapped lips of the cheerleaders he dated in the winter back in Duluth. He had been so stupid to waste his time on them when he could've had this from Samantha.
Her hand came up and gently scratched against his stubble and he moaned softly against her lips. He liked this, he really liked this, and he could do this all night with her on the beach.
They were on the beach. In California. Fletcher and Samantha.
It was both exhilarating and surprising and maybe wrong? It felt right and yet there was a weirdness creeping in. As she gently pulled away from him, Fletcher realized she was feeling it too.
"Fuck," she whispered.
"I thought you didn't swear around me."
Samantha opened her eyes and pulled her lips into a tight smile as she leaned away from him.
"That bad?" he tried to say in a teasing way to break the tension.
She gave him a small scoff. "More like that good."
