His smirk cuts me short.
“Not like that.” I slap his arm.
He laughs. “There’s no judgment here. This is a safe space.”
“She packed them without telling me.”
“Then how did you know I had them?”
“She was showing off her new ones and then said she left some in my suitcase and wanted me to acknowledge them. When I opened it”—I gesture between us—“lo and behold, they weren’t there.”
“So that sent you into my cooking class.”
“Yes, which I see now was a mistake.”
“It wasn’t a mistake.” He leans further back in his chair, smug. “It was fate.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re as bad as the hostesses.”
He laughs.
“I’m a videographer. I shoot and edit Tess’s social media content. Including”—I smile—“vibrators.”
He licks his teeth, grinning. “I didn’t expect that from you.” His lips twitch to one side. “But I didn’t expect you to crash my baking lesson either.”
“That wasn’t in my plan for the day.”
“But, full disclosure.” He sits up and loops his finger under my chin, tilting my head away to check my lump.
I want to tell him it’s fine, but I’m enjoying his fingers on me.
“When you arrived, I knew why you were there.”
“And pausing the class and pulling me aside to assure me my vibrators”—I say it full of conviction this time—“we’re not in your suitcase, never crossed your mind?”
“It did.”
“But you decided to say nothing?”
“Seems that way.”
I stare at him. “You are a terrible person.”
“Counterpoint.” His eyebrows draw together. “I am an excellent person who devised a meet-cute.”
“A meet-cute?”
“Yes.” His thumb traces the curve of my temple, careful not to press. “A meet-cute is between two people—”
“I know what a meet-cute is.”
“Then you can appreciate it.”
“Why? Why would you do that?”
His eyes flick to mine and grow serious. “I wanted you to stay.”
The room shrinks while he studies my reaction. And I’m more conscious of his nearness than the dull ache in my head.
