Page 104 of Delicious

“It’s fine. No harm done.” I turn to check the oven timer.

Less than five minutes have gone past since I put the cupcakes in. I crouch and peer through the glass door. The batter is starting to rise. As I stand, I adjust my chinos, but not subtle enough for the action to escape Cameron’s notice. His stare lingers on my crotch. On my obvious erection through my clothes.

He swallows. “I could help you with that.” His voice is raspy. “Iwantto help you with that.”

I sway and grasp the counter to steady myself. “You?—?”

“It must be obvious that I’m into you.” He smiles apologetically. “I’ve been trying to keep it secret.”

“Trying—? Secret?—?”

“It’s just…well”—he rubs his bright red face—“I’ve been sweet on you for years. I mean, look at you. You’re—” He gestures at me vaguely, encompassing all of me with a shaky sweep of his arm. He drops his arm to his side. “I’ll go. I’m sure you can decorate the cupcakes alone. I’m so sorry for ruining your morning. I’m sorry for?—”

“Don’t go.” What am I doing?

“I think I should. I’ve made things super awkward.”

“Maybe a little.”

He snort-laughs and holds his thumb and finger a few millimetres apart, then spreads them as wide as he can. “A little?”

I run my hand through my hair. “I had no idea.”

“That I like you?”

I nod. “Why?”

“What do you mean, why?”

I gesture to myself.

He flicks his gaze from my head to my toes. “All I see is a sexy drama teacher.”

With a hard-on.

“I’m—”

“Sexy.”

“Older than you.”

“So? Older means more experienced.”

“Not necessarily.”

He scratches the corner of his mouth and smirks. “I like older guys.”

“Your dad is?—”

“Thousands of miles away.”

I suck in a breath. “What are you suggesting?”

“I dunno.” He steps closer. “You’re the one who asked me to stay. Why?”

I told him not to leave, which isn’t the same thing at all. Is it? He’s gone from acting like he wants to run away in embarrassment to openly telling me he has the hots for me. What am I supposed to do with that information?

Once again, my head and my body are at odds. My head is telling me to let him down gently and then make up an excuse for him to go. Marking. Yes. I have to do marking today. He’ll understand. Except my body is begging me to take him up on his offer of alleviating my erection. It doesn’t help that he’s attractive. It doesn’t help that I haven’t been entertained by anything but my hand in well over a year. It doesn’t help that my chinos are far too fucking tight and his smirk is far too suggestive.

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