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“My crush on you. The more I got to know you, the more I fell for you. Not that it matters.”

I catch hold of his wrist. “Itdoesmatter. You’re amazing, Cam.”

He hunches his shoulders.

Right. It’s only the third time I’ve called him that. He must associate it with the intimacy we shared. I don’t blame him.

“It doesn’t matter if you can’t see past my age. If you can’t even bring yourself to find out what Dad might think about us. I’m fine with keeping a one-off secret but beyond that? If you truly want to be with me, it needs to be out in the open. You need to be proud to be seen with me. You need to be willing to tell Dad we’re together.” He wipes his hands over his face. “I’m running a million miles ahead. You came to apologise. Not ask for a second chance.”

I run my hand down his arm and thread my fingers through his. “I do want a second chance. If you’re willing to give me one.”

He stares at me.

“You’re amazing, Cameron. I haven’t stopped thinking about you and how good we were together.”

“We did make awesome cupcakes. They all sold, you know.”

“It was your decorating skills that made them look appealing.”

“It didn’t hurt that they tasted great.”

Especially when I was kissing crumbs and icing remnants off his lips and sucking them off his tongue.

“We can thank the recipe for that,” I say.

“Nah, it was our execution of the recipe.”

I laugh and then clear my throat. “I want to see where this thing between us might lead. Will you give me a second chance?”

He scuffs his foot over the wooden floor. Seconds tick by, turning into a minute. Waiting is excruciating, but I deserve to squirm.

“No secrets?” he asks.

“No.”

“You’d be happy for me to tell Dad who I’m seeing?”

It’s his nonnegotiable. The thing I have to agree to if I want to be with him. I do want to be with him. I could try to negotiate. Suggest we wait a month, two, or maybe even five, until Lewis is back in the country. Why potentially risk ruining our friendship or his relationship with Cameron over something that might not last? Which is a pessimistic viewpoint, if there is ever one.

I raise my chin. “Yes. I want to be with you. It turns out I’m sweet on you too.”

“You are, huh? Isn’t that an archaic thing to say?” He smiles, which makes his eyes twinkle beautifully.

“Maybe. But it’s true. Tell me what I need to do to prove it.”

“You can shut up and kiss me.”

I widen my eyes.

“Right now.” He taps his lips.

I pull him into my arms and ravage his mouth with my tongue. Damn, he tastes even sweeter than before. He holds on to me tightly, returning my kiss with equal passion. It’s not long before we’re whimpering and moaning against each other’s lips. My pulse races, my cock hardens. His erection presses against me.

“Do you want to talk more?” I ask, breathless. “Watch a film? Make dinner together?”

“I want you to take me upstairs.”

“I thought you weren’t interested in a booty call.”