* * *
The chocolate cupcake shimmers at me, rising up into a mountain of glistening icing that winks invitingly behind the clear glass.
I try not to dribble.
“Nate,” I whisper. My hands press against the glass, undoubtedly leaving print marks, but I don’t give a fuck. I’m twitching like a little kid during the holidays.
“Which one, baby?”
His hand briefly traces the back of my neck before it disappears, and I turn to him with a grin.
“That one, please.”
“We’ll take four, in a gift box, please,” Nate says to the scowling beta behind the counter.
I try not to salivate as the cupcakes are placed carefully into a pretty rose gold box and tied carefully with a gold ribbon.
I’m not sure what I love more – the cakes themselves, or the packaging.
My eyes round as Nate passes me the box to inspect.
“These are all for me?” I ask. My fingers tighten around the box as I hold my breath.
“All yours,” he confirms with a wink. “Turns out my favorite flavor is butterscotch.”
It’s cheesy as hell, but I still blush, right down to my toes as he holds the door open for me to walk out with my precious cargo. I clutch the box tightly as we walk along, shielding it from getting bashed.
“Careful, kitten. You’re gonna fall on your face if you’re not careful.”
Nate carefully tugs the box out of my hands, holding it carefully in one hand and reaching out with the other.
His fingers wrap around mine, steady and solid as we stroll along.
It takes me a few minutes to notice the eyes on us, the flash of cameras.
“Nate?” I ask, squeezing his hand as one particularly enthusiastic woman nearly falls into a bush whilst pointing her phone at us. “What exactly do you do?”
For the first time, Nate looks uncertain.
“I model,” he admits. His mouth quirks up. “It pays the bills.”
I squeeze his hand. “Well, you areverypretty.”
He barks out a startled laugh. “Speak for yourself, kitten.”
We walk up toIl Piacere, and Nate turns to me.
“I’ve actually got a job,” he blurts. “This afternoon. Want to come?”
I double-take. “Me?”
He nods, the skin at the base of his throat flushing.
“It’d probably be a bit boring,” he says, mouth quirking in a half grin. “Nice to have some company, though.”
I glance at the doors of the restaurant, considering.
“It’s okay,” Nate says quietly. “Stupid idea. You’ve got work.”
