Page 13 of Almost Love

Rolling her eyes, she shrugged. “Sometimes. It’s a method I saw somewhere online a few years ago and it’s how I always eat my cupcakes.”

“Why not sell them that way? Frosting sandwiched between two pieces of cake.”

“The whole selling point of the cupcakes is how pretty they look, if you take that way, it’ll be two slices of cake with frosting in the middle.”

He smiled as she talked with her hands. When she noticed him watching her, she huffed and pressed her hands between her thighs. Her eyes stayed on him, drifting to his mouth briefly and he held his breath. After a long moment, she reached out and brushed her thumb against the side of his lips, pulling her finger away with frosting attached. His body hummed in response and it took everything in Oakley to not lean in for more.

“Fuck,sorry,” she breathed, not meeting his eyes. “Spent the day with my best friend’s kid and Indigo is the messiest child you’ll ever meet.”

“You don’t have to apologize. Thank you.” His heart was racing so fast that if she touched him again, even accidentally, he might combust. Handing her a fresh tissue, he closed the box of cupcakes so he wouldn’t be tempted to get frosting all over his mouth again.

“But that is why I’m here, to apologize.”

“Right, of course. What are you apologizing for?”

She sighed, twisting the tissue around in her hands. “For the way I behaved that day when you came by the shop. I didn’t mean to be rude or make it seem like I was rejecting your friendship. I don’t always say what I mean and it comes out wrong.”

“What did you mean to say?” he asked, keeping his voice level and soft. He didn’t want to scare her off yet, he wanted to be able to soak up the vanilla fragrance that floated around her. Oakley knew that he had come on a little strong that day and he wasn’t going to do that again. Not when she’d been clear about what she didn’t want.

“I don’t date,” she said, eyes darting to his for a moment. “Besides not having the time between running the shop and trying to stay alive like every other millennial in existence, I struggle to connect with people I don’t already know. That’s notto say I’m dating any of my friends,” she added with an awkward laugh. “Some would even say Iavoiddating, so I don’t get hurt.”

“Dating is, quite honestly, a pain in the ass. So I get it.”

She looked up at him and Oakley wondered if that was the wrong thing to say. Instead she offered him a small smile. It was so tiny, if he wasn’t paying such close attention, he would have completely missed it. Watching her so intently was also the only reason he saw the way she stared at his tattooed arm, eyes moving over every detail inked into his skin.

“Why tattoos?” she asked, voice soft almost like she was scared to ask the question.

“I always saw it as a form to express myself without having to speak, you know?” He pushed up the folded sleeve of his button down, showing off the lion surrounded by flowers. “They’re also ways to honor the people I love. The lion is for my sister, Leonora. The lilies are for my mom and grandmother, it was their favorite flower,” he said. He traced the lion, then twisted his arm to show her the lilies that covered his entire arm. Above his elbow, on the inside of his arm, was a compass. He tapped it and said, “This is for my father, the original West. He always believed that if I looked to the west, I’d find what I was searching for.”

Swallowing hard, he hoped that she wouldn’t ask anymore questions about his family. Losing them had been hard, talking about it was even harder. Exhaling loudly through his nose, Oakley looked up to find her watching him curiously.

She pointed at the other ink. “What about those?”

Chuckling and grateful that she wasn’t digging deeper, Oakley twisted his arm to show her the rest of his tattoos. On the outside of his forearm was the three line chevron. “For my grandfather. I never met him, but he was in the military and I wanted to honor him in a small way.” He had a surfboard on his bicep for the one thing that he’d been so passionate about beforehe’d walked away forever. Rubbing his thumb over the sobriety tattoo he’d gotten right after rehab, he twisted his arm to show her the hand drawn ones. “I worked at a friend’s shop back home and he’d sometimes invite kids from the neighborhood for art workshops. They were mostly at-risk kids, so we gave them something safe to do for a few hours. This little girl, cute as shit, used a Sharpie and drew all over me. Whatever I couldn’t wash off, I got tattooed.”

A wobbly smiling emoji, a lopsided dog and mountains with the sun peeking through were the ones that had stuck. It was a good reminder of his California life and the people that made him who he was.

“You’re a softie.”

“You make it sound like a bad thing,” he teased and Clementine rolled her eyes. “Do you have any tattoos?”

Shaking her head, she pushed up the sleeves of her shirt to show him bare arms. Well, bare except for cuts, welts and scars. Oakley frowned at the marks and discolored bits of skin, which then made her push her sleeves down awkwardly.

“The life of a baker is to have a minimum of a hundred burn marks on your skin. But I do want to get a tattoo or three, I haven’t figured out what yet.”

“Cupcakes, donuts, cakes, literally everything you bake.”

A laugh burst out of her and she caught herself quickly, pressing her lips together as she shook her head. “Maybe one day.”

He nodded, wondering what it would take for Clementine to make eye contact with him again. What would it take for her to give him a few more minutes of her time. He loved this moment they had shared, but it wasn’t enough. However, she was still calling the shots and he would uphold her request.

“I should go, head back before my staff burn the bakery to the ground.”

They stood up at the same time and it put them inches away from each other. He’d always known she was tall, but only when standing this close did he realize that she was only a few inches shorter than him. He dipped his head slightly to properly look into her eyes and smiled when a blush crept across her cheekbones. With her delicious scent filling his nostrils, Oakley took a small step back and pulled the curtain open.

Clementine stepped out before turning to look at him. “Is the offer to be friends still on the table?”

“Always,” he responded without even thinking.

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