Page 27 of Reunion
As if sensing my thoughts, Dane pecked me quickly on the cheek. “That wasn’t apity memoment, I promise. That was anI’m-grateful-to-once-again-be-the-beneficiary-of-her-bakingmoment.” He brushed past me and headed to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of white wine, which he held up for my inspection.
“Does that go with cake?” I had my doubts, but Dane shrugged.
“Why not? And I even have ice cream.”
“What flavor?”
“Vanilla.” He gave me a meaningful stare, and I narrowed my eyes at him.
“Very funny.”
He chuckled and turned to the cabinets, retrieving some plates, and gathered a couple of forks and a knife. I took the plates from him and set them on the table.
“Do you still talk to your parents at all? Is that okay to ask?” I tried to gauge his expression and didn’t notice any kind of wince or grimace or impending shutdown that suggested I’d hit a nerve.
Instead, he laughed. “Of course it’s okay to ask. I talk to them on rare occasions.” He rolled one shoulder. “It is what it is. When I came out senior year, that was probably the roughest period. Once I got to college, I realized I was giving them too much space in my head and I could either continue doing that or meet them where they were and detach myself, so that’s what I did. They did the same.”
He sliced into the cake and eased a thick pink wedge onto a plate, then pulled out the chair next to him and told me to sit. I did so without a second thought, and when I started snickering, he eyed me sidelong.
“What?”
“This is bizarrely wholesome in a way, right? We’ve just eaten dinner at the diner where we used to hang out, walked around the city, played arcade games, and now we’re eating homemade strawberry cake and vanilla ice cream at your kitchen table.”
“Is it too much? Are you about to break out into song?”
“Only if you’ve got a choreographed dance ready to go. Our musical won’t be complete otherwise.”
Dane narrowed his eyes at me as if ready to pass judgment. “Are you thinkingSound of Music?”
“More along the lines ofThe Greatest Showman. Remember the routine Hugh Jackman and Zac Efron do together in the bar?” I sighed happily as I cut into my cake.
“Oh god yes. I was hoping at the end they’d start spontaneously making out. Say to hell with the circus and their families and travel the world doing vaudeville shows and having copious sex.”
I choked around a bite of cake. “That would have been a very different musical.”
“But a good one.”
“Wow, we’re gay.”
“Appears so.” Dane grinned as he sat down next to me and forked a bite of cake into his mouth, closing his eyes with apparent pleasure as he hummed low in his throat, and it was only slightly weird that I was getting aroused because of a sound he was making in response to a cake my mom made.
“Fuck, I forgot what a baker your mom is.”
“I’m sure she’d gladly keep you supplied if you just asked.”
“Hold on, I’ve got one more thing.” The legs of Dane’s chair scraped as he leaned back and stretched to open the fridge, fishing around the door shelves to return with a bottle of chocolate syrup, which he drizzled liberally over his cake and ice cream, then offered to me.
I waved it away. “No way, that’s too much.”
“Your loss.” He shrugged, then loaded up his spoon and extended it in my direction. “Try the trifecta of sweetness.”
“You’re going to feed me now?”
“Who says romance is dead?”
I scoffed and leaned toward him, opening my mouth expectantly. Dane brought the spoon to my lips, the wet chill of ice cream and the rich chocolate syrup blooming on the tip of my tongue. Just a taste, and then he jerked the spoon back and I scowled because now I wanted that bite, dammit. But I was too stubborn to chase after it, so I kept my mouth open, waiting, noting the way Dane’s eyes darkened with desire as he moved the spoon closer again.
“That’s fucking sexy, you with your mouth open like that, waiting for me.” He hummed in approval, and this time instead of pushing the bite into my mouth, he angled the spoon at the last moment. Cake, ice cream, and syrup collided with my upper lip and smeared all over it.