“We should decorate all of them,” I say, desperate for something to do with my hands that isn’t grabbing Henry and kissing him in front of the entire town. “Make them pretty.”
“They’re already pretty. Like you.”
I nearly drop the jar of jimmies. “You can’t just say things like that.”
“Why not?” He steps closer, and we’re in our own bubble despite the crowd around us. “It’s true.”
I grab a spoon and dollop whipped cream on top of each cake, my hands shaking. Henry covers my hand with his, steadying me.
“Willa.”
I look up, and his eyes are dark, intense, locked on mine like I’m the only person in the room.
“You have something...” He reaches up, his thumb brushing the corner of my mouth. “Frosting.”
Time slows down. His thumb lingers on my skin, and I can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t do anything but stare at him.
“Henry,” I whisper.
He leans in, slow enough that I could stop him. Should stop him. But I don’t want to.
I want this. I wanthim.
His lips brush mine, soft and questioning, and the world disappears. It’s just us, just this moment, just the sweetness of chocolate and the warmth of his mouth and the way my heart is racing so fast I might actually need medical attention.
I kiss him back, my hands fisting in his flannel, pulling him closer because suddenly he’s not close enough and never will be.
Someone whistles —probably Mark— but I don’t care. Henry’s arm wraps around my waist, holding me steady, and I’ve never felt safer in my life.
When we finally break apart, gasping, his forehead rests against mine.
“Are you guys in love now?!” Ben’s voice cuts through the haze, and I jump back, reality crashing in.
The entire bakery is staring at us. Mark is grinning. Liam is giving Henry a thumbs up. And Ben is practically vibrating with excitement.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Mark laughs.
Henry’s hand finds mine, tangling our fingers together. “Is this okay?” he asks quietly, just for me.
No.
Yes.
I don’t know.
This is terrifying and wonderful and too fast and not fast enough all rolled into one.
“Yeah,” I manage. “This is okay.”
His smile is worth every risk.
Chapter 12
Henry
The event windsdown around nine, and I’m helping clean up while trying very hard not to stare at Willa like a lovesick teenager. She’s talking with Mrs. Chen, one of her elderly neighbors, and laughing at something, and my chest feels too full.
Ben is asleep on one of the benches, worn out from excitement and a sugar crash. My parents already left to give me space—my mom whispered “Don’t screw this up” on her way out, which was so helpful.
