Page 91 of Things We Fake
I narrowed my eyes. “Definetaken care of.”
He casually walked over to me, taking my coat and hanging it up. “Let’s just say Britt received a very large, very embarrassing delivery this afternoon. Two can play this game.”
I clapped a hand over my mouth, my body shaking with barely contained laughter. “Oh, my God. You’re evil.”
“Aw, that’s so sweet. Thank you.” He grinned, looking genuinely pleased. Then he took my hand and led me toward the table. “Now, if you’ll let me spoil you tonight, I promise I won’t make you sing karaoke again.”
I washed my hands at the kitchen sink before sliding into the chair he pulled out for me. My heart was doing something funny in my chest—one of those deep, aching flutters you feel right before you realize you’re completely gone for someone.
“You planned all this?”
He sat down across from me, his gaze intent on mine. “Of course. You deserve it.”
I exhaled, looking around the apartment, taking in every detail. No one had ever done something like this for me.
I swallowed the knot in my throat, willing myself not to become too sentimental.
“Thank you, Cam. This means… a lot.”
“You’re most welcome.” He reached for my hand across the table, and brushed his lips over my knuckles. “You deserve the best of everything. Now, are you ready to be wined and dined?”
He poured me a glass of wine.
“Yes, please.” I beamed, giddy with excitement. “By the way, how did you get into my apartment?”
“I borrowed Sebastian’s spare key. Figured it was safer than breaking in through the window.”
“Smart man.”
God, he was magnificent! Every time I thought he couldn’t possibly be more handsome, he surprised me. There was a quiet confidence about him—so casual, so completely in control that the air around him practically buzzed with magnetic pull.
“Thank you. So, how was your day?” he asked, oblivious of my fangirling. “Any thrilling schoolyard dramas? More existential crises over reading assignments?”
I sighed, picking up my fork. “Let’s see… One kid insisted that unicorns are real and got into a heated argument with another kid who claimed they weren’t. That debate ended in tears.”
Cam chuckled, arranging his napkin. “Which side were you on?”
“The unicorns, obviously.”
“Obviously.”
He speared a bite of pasta, watching me with quiet amusement.
I took a moment to savor the food—because holy hell, this was actual fine dining. The pappardelle melted on my tongue, drenched in parmesan cream and laced with black truffle, the richness cut by roasted garlic and a kiss of lemon zest. The branzino practically dissolved under my fork, crisp-skinned and buttery, with the warm, nutty aroma of sage. Even the Brussels sproutswere seductive—sweet, smoky, and tangled with pancetta.
I took a sip of wine, closing my eyes. “I feel like I should say something deep and meaningful to match the level of this meal, but all I can come up with is ‘mmm.’”
Cam grinned, forking a bite of his own branzino. “That’s my favorite sound. I plan to hear it a lot tonight.”
Heat crept up my cheeks and I glanced down at my plate, wondering what more the night had in store for me. It had just started, and it was practically orgasmic.
I took a sip of water to cool off. “So, how was your day? Anything exciting happen in the world of software today?”
He blotted his mouth with his napkin, his expression animated. “Actually, yes. We finalized the funding for a new grant today. It’s something I’ve been working on for a while.”
“A grant? Like, a research grant?”
“Yeah. It’s for lung cancer research—early detection, to be more precise. When my dad was diagnosed, it was already stage four. Treatment options are so limited right now that stage four is basically a death sentence. It was too late for my dad, but I hope I can help change that for other people.”
