Page 24 of Our Secret Moments

“Why?” I say, exasperated as I stand up from the couch, tightening my blanket around my shoulders. There’s no point trying to hide the mess I’ve made here. I have a chaotic working environment and I’ve come to peace with it. It’s apples and some sort of dip or nothing at all. It’s the only way I can get anything done.

“Why do you think?” he replies.

“You’re that desperate, Connie?” I ask, a little louder this time as I reach the door so he can hear me. I end the call and shove my phone into my back pocket.

“Just open the door and put me out of my misery, woman,” he says on the other side of the door, trying the handle.

I can’t help the laugh that escapes me as I open the door.

Fuck.

Have I mentioned before how fucking tall this man is? Because he’s huge. Or I’m just small. I don’t know. Either way, the wind practically gets knocked out of me as I open the door wider, letting him walk in. He’s wearing black baggy jeans and white t-shirt. The way this man can exude confidence and comfortability at the same time completely baffles me. I’m too caught up in the sheer size of him and his hypnotising smell of fresh wood that I don’t notice the box he shoved into my hands.

Before I can question it he looks over my head at my messy set up in the living room. “Busy, right?”

“Super,superbusy,” I say. He peers down at me and then at the box. I look at the white box with a red ribbon poorly crafted on top of it. “What’s this?”

His face explodes into a smile. “Open it and find out.”

That’s not weird or suspicious at all…

I gently remove the ribbon, placing it onto the counter beside us. He watches me carefully, a slightly pensive look on his face. I open the lid of the box and I’m greeted by two very badly decorated cupcakes and an empty wrapper beside them. The frosting is a colour between off-white and a pale pink. I can’t really decide. One of them has a dollop of red icing in the middle which I can only hope was supposed to be something else that melted off.

Connor has always been a gift giver. I’ve never known why. Sometimes he’d show up to parties or events with something random he made. But never anything he bakes. He saves those for special occasions like birthdays or a holiday. They very rarely taste good, but we all get a kick out of making fun of his bad baking skills.

But he made these.

For me.

“Sorry about that,” he mumbles, laughing a little as he picks up the wrapper. “I got hungry on the way here since you so kindly locked me out.”

“I did not lock you out,” I retort, “I didn’t even know you were coming.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, dismissing me with his hand. The sass on this man is insane. “Just try one.”

I do as he asks and take the one without the extra dollop of icing. It smells fresh, but they feel a little warm which I can’t decide is a positive thing or not. I gently peel off the wrapper, feeling the heat of Connor’s gaze on me. I bring the cupcake to my mouth, silently praying that they’re not as bad as they usually are, and I take a bite.

They are… not great.

It’s probably the worst thing I’ve ever tasted in my life. It remains a mystery to me how he can fuck up something so simple so badly. The frosting tastes like it has salt added to it instead of sugar and the inside of the cupcake tastes like it has added bits of… something.

“I added crushed up Oreo’s in there ‘cause I know you like them,” he says sweetly. Jesus Christ.He added in Oreo’s because he knows that I like them.Why does he have to sound and look so adorable? He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. There is no way I can tell him how bad they are. Not like this. “What do you think?”

“They’re so–” I get out through a mouthful, finally swallowing that god-awful icing. “So, so good. I can’t get enough.”

“Yeah?”

I nod, painting my face into a smile as best as I can. He steps in closer to me, his eyes a little dim as he searches my face. I’m not good at acting. That’s Nora’s thing. I just hope I’m putting on the performance of a lifetime right now before his feelings gethurt. I have no idea when I started to care this much about them, but the softness on his face is making me second guess a lot of things right now. A lot more than just his feelings.

For extra conviction, I add, “They’re brilliant. The icing really ties it together,” I lie.

“Thank you, Catherine,” he says quietly. I hate the way he says my name like that. I can’t tell if he’s even saying itlikeanything, or if that is just the way he sounds sand I’m that pathetic. Regardless, it sends a shiver down my spine and his proximity only makes this worse.

He raises his hand to the side of my face slowly, and I stay glued to the spot. Am I supposed to be speaking right now? Telling him he’s welcome whilst lying through my teeth? His thumb raises to my cheek, and I can immediately feel just how hot my face is. I never get flustered by guys. Not anymore. Mostly because I haven’t been in close contact with one since my ex, but still. This is new.

The soft caress of his thumb against my cheek pulls my body into instant comfort mode and it takes all that I am not to close my eyes. To not show him that I’m already weak by his touch. I keep my eyes locked with his, trying to search for some explanation, but he clearly knows what he’s doing. In one swift motion, his thumb glides down my cheek to the side of my mouth where he swipes the frosting I hadn’t noticed was there.

He doesn’t take his eyes off mine as he places his thumb into his mouth, a low hum coming from the back of his throat as he swallows. “You’re right. The icing does tie it together.” I open and close my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. “It tastes much better coming from you, though.”

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