Idiots to Lovers (bxb)

11 | Lumpy Toadstools and Fondant Flowers

"You're supposed to only fill it up halfway," I said with exasperation as Everett filled yet another cupcake liner up to the brim.

"Excuse me, Clementine, but I don't cheat my customers with too-little cupcakes."

"It rises in the oven, it's going to spill all over!" I glared at him. "And that's way too much ganache, there's more ganache than cake."

"There's no such thing as too much ganache," he insisted, spooning in some more.

"You need it to be inside the cupcake, not have the whole cupcake made of it," I argued, "Just let me do it."

I reached for the spoon and he pulled back quickly, hitting himself on the face. A splodge of chocolate adorned his tiny nose. I giggled as his eyes widened in surprise.

"You laugh, Clementine, but I have the most decadent dessert a mere inch away from my reach."

Everett stuck out his tongue and tried to reach it. He failed and blew out his cheeks in frustration as I let out another chuckle.

"It's not that easy...you try!" He exclaimed, prodding my cheek with the ganache covered spoon.

"Hey!" I objected.

Everett snickered and ducked as I reached for him, skating away to the other side of the counter. I grabbed him by the waist before he could escape, wrestling the chocolatey weapon out of his grasp.

I don't quite know how it happened—he tried to move before I could retaliate, and I tried to stop him—but suddenly we were standing chest to chest, foreheads almost touching.

Everett was pinned up against the oven, his hands on my chest. His breathing was ragged, warm against my face. His lips were parted, inches away.

And his hair was a mess.

The air around us buzzed with electricity, the space between us begging to be closed. His lids were half shut, lashes making an arc on his cheek. Dark eyes locked on mine, making dreamy promises of a billion stars.

I almost leaned in.

And perhaps I would've kissed him if I weren't always so afraid of everything.

But instead I drew back, moving to fill the last tray with cupcake batter. As if I hadn't almost pushed my hands through his curly hair and pressed my lips against his.

As if I didn't still want to.

Everett silently helped me finish up and put it in the oven. He looked a little dazed, uncharacteristically quiet. He chewed on his bottom lip, turning it distractingly pink.

"That was really awkward earlier," he suddenly burst out, "I'm sorry."

I realized then that I had been an idiot.

"You didn't—" I cleared my throat. "It's fine."

"We're pretty much done now except for the fondant." He shifted his weight awkwardly, rocking on his feet. "You can go home if you need to."

The last thing I wanted was to leave.

"And allow you to ruin all these cupcakes with your terrible decorating skills?" I asked instead, trying to break the tension.

Everett burst out laughing, looking relieved. "God, I was scared you were gonna actually go and leave me to it," he joked, "We still have to ice all these...and I'm a mess with the piping bag."

"I can imagine," I said with sincerity. The thought of him trying to ice in a spiral almost made me shudder.

"Okay okay I get it, you're a total artistic pro and the rest of us peasants cannot even hope to compare," Everett teased.