Page 38 of Delicious (Delicious #1)

Chapter Nine

Cameron

T he moment we leave Euan’s bedroom to pick the boys up from school, something shifts between us. The flirtiness is gone. We maintain a reserved distance from one another. We’re careful not to glance at the other for too long. To not make eye contact. I hate it. I want to kiss him. I want to hold him. I want to run my fingers through his hair. It’s the not knowing what—if anything—is going to happen next. We avoided a much-needed conversation in favour of pretending the outside world didn’t exist, but it does. I don’t care what Dad thinks about me and Euan hooking up, but Euan obviously does. Does my age bother him too? Was telling him I liked him a dumb idea?

The boys race up to us. It’s refreshing to only have one of them tackle-hugging me at a time.

Elliott bounces on the soles of his feet. “Did you make cupcakes?”

I smile. “Yes.”

The boys jump and fist-bump the air.

“You’re the best. Dad.” Peter hugs Euan. Then he hugs me. “And you, Cam. Thanks a bunch.”

“We have invitations.” Elliott takes an envelope out of his bag and hands it to me.

I pull a space-themed card out of the envelope and read the invitation. “A sleepover party?”

“At David’s. For his birthday. It’s a week on Friday. Can I go?”

“Can I go too?” Peter gives Euan an identical invitation.

Euan frowns. “It says the party starts at five. I’m not sure I’ll be home in time to give you a lift.”

“I can take them,” I say.

Euan smiles at me. The skin around his eyes crinkles beautifully, his blue irises appearing lighter and brighter in the afternoon sunlight. He is so damned gorgeous, and he’s staring right into my eyes, and I’m falling for him all over again. I am doomed.

“Thanks, Cam.”

Cam. It’s only the second time he’s called me by my nickname. The first time was while I was buried deep inside him. My knees sag. I’m swooning like the women in my favourite black-and-white movies.

“Did you have fun making cakes?” Elliott asks.

My cheeks flush with heat. I rub the back of my neck. “Uh, yeah. It was fun.” I catch Euan’s eye again, even though I shouldn’t.

He blushes too.

“Did you get your marking done?” Peter asks him.

Euan clears his throat. “Cupcake-making took longer than we anticipated.”

The boys glance at each other, smirking. Elliott pats Peter on the arm, and they run ahead, whispering to each other.

“What’s that about?” I ask Euan.

“No clue. They’re probably plotting something.”

“Yeah, but what?”

He shrugs. “Hopefully, we won’t ever find out.”

“Euan—”

Elliott stops and waves to us. “Hurry up! We want to see the cupcakes.”

I sigh and pick up the pace. Now isn’t the right time to talk to Euan anyway. The boys could overhear. The trouble is, we’re unlikely to get a moment alone anytime soon. I guess that’s it, then. One and done. I should be grateful I got to have him at all. I am grateful. It was amazing. But our encounter hasn’t done anything to work my crush on him out of my system. If anything, I want him more. Is there a chance he might want me too? Not for another one-off. Truly want to be with me. If he did, I’d want to be open and honest about it. I wouldn’t want to pretend I’m not crazy about him.

Peter unlocks the door to his house. The boys dump their belongings by the door and dash into the kitchen. Out of habit, I pick up their things and hang them up, even though it’s not my house.

“You didn’t need to do that. We should have called them back to do it,” Euan says.

“It’s fine. I don’t mind.”

We follow the boys into the kitchen, where they’re scrutinising the cupcakes.

“They look good,” Euan whispers.

It’s the first time he’s seen them decorated because we stayed in bed together until the last possible second. More orgasms were had. I was correct: he has an excellent hand technique.

“Why are there only twenty-two?” Elliott asks.

“We had to taste-test them,” I reply.

I’ll never forget how the icing crumbled onto Euan’s beard and lips or the taste of cake and icing on his tongue as I kissed him. I shouldn’t be thinking about it right now. I do not want to get a hard-on in front of my ten-year-old brother and his best friend. Think unsexy thoughts. Think unsexy thoughts.

“They look great,” Peter says.

“You can tell they’re not shop-bought. You know what this means, don’t you?” Elliott asks.

I shake my head.

“You’ve got no excuse to make cupcakes next time.”

“Next time? What next time?”

Elliott shrugs. “School are always doing things to raise money.”

“They ask us for ideas of what they can do.”

“We suggested a cupcake sale.”

I narrow my eyes.

Elliott bounces from foot to foot. “You could make me a birthday cake! I’ve never had a homemade birthday cake!”

You and me both, kid.

“Could you make me a birthday cake, Dad?” Peter asks.

Euan looks terrified.

The boys glance at each other.

“You could work together to make us birthday cakes,” Elliott says.

“That’s a great idea!” Peter says.

“We can talk about cakes when it’s your birthday,” I say.

“I think baking and decorating a cake would be a lot harder than cupcakes,” Euan stammers.

I fold my arms. “Do you have any homework tonight?”

“No,” the boys reply in unison.

“Then why don’t you go play in Peter’s room while we box up the cupcakes to take to school tomorrow?”

Elliott nudges Peter. “See? I told you they’d make a good team.”

“No. I told you they would.”

They continue arguing as they leave the kitchen and head upstairs.

Euan breathes out and sags against the counter.

“They’re a pair of whirlwinds, but at least they approve of the cupcakes,” I say.

“I’m surprised they didn’t ask to try one.”

“Each.”

Euan chuckles.

I lean against the opposite side of the breakfast bar and tap my finger against the counter. “Euan, we should talk.”

He glances up at the ceiling.

“Relax. They’re probably playing a computer game or creating something out of Lego.”

“This afternoon was fun.”

I smile. “It was.”

Why isn’t he making eye contact with me?

“But—?” I ask.

“It needs to be a one-off.”

“Because of Dad?”

He nods.

“Is he the only reason?”

“You’re ten years younger than me, Cameron.”

“And?”

“You’d have more fun with someone closer to your age.”

“I think that’s for me to decide, isn’t it?”

He still doesn’t look at me.

“You realise Dad is ten years older than you ? I guess age gaps only matter when it’s someone you want to fuck.” I’m careful to keep my voice low. Am I being unfair? Maybe. It won’t stop me from getting the hurt in my heart out in the open. “You don’t even know that Dad would have a problem. You’re just assuming he will, and you’re too scared to find out.”

Euan clenches his jaw and bows his head.

I knock my loose fist lightly against the counter. “I’m not a kid, Euan. Please don’t treat me like one.”

“I’m sorry, Cameron.”

I hunch my shoulders. The truth is, I knew it was going to come to this. I knew I was playing with fire. I did it willingly. I should be happy I got to be with him at all. Why wish for more? It was never going to happen.

“I won’t tell Dad what happened between us. Send Elliott home in an hour, please. I’ll have dinner ready for him.”

“Cameron—”

I turn my back on him. “I’m sorry I encouraged you to cross a line you didn’t want to cross.” I walk out without giving him a chance to speak. I don’t want to know what his response would have been.

Instead, I go home, nursing my wounded pride and bruised ego. At least I have hot memories of my sexy next-door neighbour to console me.