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“I’ve got it.” In a final act of betrayal, the metal flat beaters spin twice before halting altogether. I place it on the other side of the counter to prevent myself from doing something I might regret.
“I could take a look at it if you want.” He reaches for the mixer.
“Don’t worry about it. I have enough buttercream to finish up the last few cupcakes.”
“Is that guava frosting?” Cal’s voice hits a rare high pitch. He reaches for the mixing bowl beside me with bright eyes, but I slap his hand away.
He pouts, reminding me so much of Cami. “Come on. Just let me have a little taste.”
“No. That’s unsanitary.”
His eyes roll. “No one will know.”
“My students might not, but I will.”
“So? Aren’t these the same kids who eat dirt on a daily basis?”
“That only happened one time while I was subbing.”
He leans against the counter with a smile. “What do you teach now?”
“Spanish.” I refocus my attention on icing the cupcake in front of me. Maybe if I act like I’m not interested in talking to him, then Cal will go away.
“Do you like it?”
“It pays well.” Being the only Spanish teacher in all of Lake Wisteria has its perks, especially when kids need private tutoring for advanced placement exams and finals.
“You didn’t really answer my question.”
Damn him.
“I don’t mind it.” Sure, it’s not my dream job per se, but the kids are cute and I’m able to go home by three in the afternoon, which is a major plus.
He scans the kitchen counters, taking in the hundred cupcakes. “So what’s the special occasion?”
So much for him leaving.
My hand clutching the piping bag tightens. A blob of icing drops on to the half-finished cupcake, ruining my design.
“We’re celebrating the last week of school.” I swipe the botched icing off the cupcake with my index finger and walk over to the sink to rinse it off.
Cal snatches on to my hand and tugs me away from the sink. My chest smacks into his, stealing my breath away.
I attempt to push him away. “What are you doing?”
“Something I can’t resist.” The glint in his eyes should come with a warning label.
No.
“Cal…” The breathy way I say his name only seems to encourage him.
Caltsksme like a child. “Your mom taught us better than to waste any food.” He lifts my hand to his mouth. His eyes hold mine hostage, casting a spell on me while his lips close around my icing-covered finger. Every single cell in my body explodes when his tongue brushes against my skin.
Cal makes sure to take his time, dragging his tongue back and forth across my finger, cleaning off all traces of the icing. Each swipe of his tongue acts like a shock to my body.
The whole thing is both the longest and shortest five seconds of my life.
I attempt to pull my wrist free of his grasp and fail. His fingers on my wrist tighten before he releases me, and my hand drops by my side like a pendulum.
