Page 92 of Head Over Feels
Gregstraightened up and looked more alert, like a dog being told there was a treat to be had. “Cupcakes?”
Heshut the door behind him and followed me into the kitchen. “Wow, those smell delicious.”
“Thanks.”Iwashed my hands. “Ineed to mix the frosting a little more and then put it on the cupcakes.Tenminutes tops.”Gregwas staring into the mixing bowl and practically salivating.Ifelt a laugh bubble up. “Youcan have one before we go if you want.”
“Really?”
Igestured at the cupcakes. “Ithink there’s plenty.”
“CanIhelp?”
Well, it wasn’t like the cupcakes had to be pretty. “Sure.Canyou get a couple of spoons out of the drawer over there?Oh, and put a towel over your shirt.”
“Goodidea.”Hetucked a dish towel into his collar.Ihoped it would be big enough.
Iran the mixer for thirty seconds then carefully eased the beaters out of the frosting and ejected them.Ioffered one toGreg. “Tastetest?”
Hetook the beater and grinned. “I’mpicking you up for every game night from now on.Malcolmcan drive by himself.”
Ilicked the beater and the sweet taste reminded me. “Oh, shit.Onemore delay.Ihave to giveMariposaher insulin.”
Gregnodded. “Youdo that andI’llfrost the cupcakes.Anyparticular way...?”Heput the beater in the sink and picked up a spoon.Ishowed him how to put a dollop of frosting on the cupcake and swirl it.Thebits of strawberry peeking out from the pink frosting was a showstopper. “That’spretty,”Gregsaid. “How’dyou learn to do this?”
“Mymom taught me whenIwas in middle school.She’sgone now.”
Greggrimaced. “I’mso sorryIbrought it up.”
“Nah, it’s okay.Ican remember her this way.”
IdosedMariposa, then helpedGregfinish up the cupcakes.Hisweren’t half-bad.
“Okay, you taste test one whileIfind something to put them in.”
Gregcarefully chose a cupcake. “Thisone was my first attempt at the frosting.Noone needs to see it.”Hebit down andIsmirked at his over-the-top moans at how good it was.
Ineeded to get over being intimidated byGreg.
Hisphone chimed asIwas putting the cupcakes in a huge casserole dishI’dfound in one of the cabinets.Itwould do for transport.
“Uhoh,Craigand the crew are looking for us.”Hepointed his phone at the cupcakes and sent the photo with a smug, “There.That’llkeep ‘em off our backs.”
IwhippedMalcolm’st-shirt off and tossed it into the washing machine along with the dish towelGreghad used as a bib.Idampened another dish towel and wiped the powdered sugar off my jeans.Thatwent into the washing machine too. “Ready.”
Greghefted the pan of cupcakes and followed me through the house and out the door.Heunlocked his very expensive-lookingSUVand said, “Getin andI’llhand these to you.”
Iclimbed into the passenger seat and made a face at the leather upholstery.Ihoped it didn’t end up with pink frosting all over it. “Nicecar,”Itold him as he carefully passed me the casserole dish.
“Thanks,” he said.
Ashe walked around to the driver’s side,Istarted to worry again.Gregwas everythingIwasn’t: gorgeous, polished, and confident.Whatcould we possibly have to talk about?
Well, okay,Iknew whatIneeded to talk to him about.Ijust didn’t want to talk about it.Icould hearCalpraising me for being more evolved now, andIsighed.Crap.
WhenGreggot into the car,Isaid, “Ineed to apologize to you.”
Hestopped in the middle of putting his seat belt on and looked questioningly at me. “Forwhat?”
“Um, for going out withJaime.”
