Chapter 4

He smiled. “And?” he asked, approaching me. He wrapped his arms around me and I backed him against the refrigerator.

“And I’m pretty sure I’ll need another piece to tide me over before I go home.”

“I think that can be arranged,” he said before kissing me.

After another taste of Clay’s “cake” in the kitchen, bedroom, and shower, I finally headed home. But I didn’t leave empty-handed. After breakfast, he sent me on my way with a warm lemon cake. (Clay was the only person I’d ever met who kept cardboard cake boxes on hand.) He and I also exchanged numbers and agreed to meet again the following week. He said he wanted to cook dinner for me and I told him I’d like that.

During the cab ride back to my place, I opened the cake box and took a small piece of the lemon cake between my fingers. It was warm and sweet and wonderful just like I knew it would be.

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