I hand him a box of cupcakes from the refrigerator, trying to look casual and not like I’m internally dissecting the news about his “lady friend.”
“Sorry, you don’t have to tell me,” I say. “It’s not my business.”
“Kind of like it’s not my business that I want to know why you’re out of practice in the dating department?”
I turn my back to grab the other box, because there’s no way I’m having this conversation while looking at his stupidly attractive face. “This is so embarrassing.” My ears burn despite the cool temperature of the refrigerator and the fact I keep brushing him every time I turn around, which is definitely not helping me think clearly.
“Well, I’d be happy to volunteer my services,” he says casually, like he’s offering to help me fix a broken faucet instead of my love life.
I nearly fumble the cupcake box. “They want me to go on apractice date,” I say, using air quotes like that’ll make it sound less humiliating. “Because apparently it’s been so long since I went out with someone who wasn’t Nate, I need a dress rehearsal.” I slam the fridge shut with one hip, balancing the box against my side. “And just for the record, I don’t need practice. I’m perfectly capable of…you know.”
“What?” He grins.
My brain blanks. “Um, like…the normal stuff. Flirting. Complimenting people’s…eyebrows. Casual, non-weird touching. That kind of thing.”
“You get a lot of eyebrow compliments?” he asks, his mouth twitching in amusement.
“You know what I mean.”
“And what constitutes non-weird touching?” he asks with mischief in his eyes. “Asking for a friend.”
“You’re enjoying this way too much,” I mutter, my face now officially on fire. This is exactly why I need practice—I can’t even explain what dating involves without sounding like an alien who’s never interacted with humans before.
A smirk tugs at his lips. “For what it’s worth, your eyebrow game is excellent.”
“Oh my gosh, I really am terrible at this,” I say, trying to exit as quickly as possible, but as I turn the handle, I notice it’s stuck. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“What?” Lucian asks.
I put my box down and pull at it, harder this time. “Either this wonky lock is jammed again, or my friends thought it would be absolutelyhilariousto lock me in here with you.”
He sets the cupcake box down and tests the door himself. “Yep. That’s definitely locked. Though I have to ask—why is the lock on the other side of this door?”
“Security reasons. They didn’t want customers wandering in.” I knock on the door, but no one answers. “I think they left. Which means we’re stuck here.”
Lucian leans against a shelf, the maple-leaf tattoo peeking outfrom his crossed arms, teasing me. “Well, it’s not the worst place to be trapped. Good company, climate-controlled environment…” He pops open one of the cupcake boxes. “And emergency desserts. Want one?”
He takes out one of the pumpkin-spice cupcakes with cream-cheese frosting and offers it to me like we’re on a date instead of trapped in a storage room together.
“Shouldn’t you be saving those for yourlady friend?”
“Oh, she doesn’t need all these,” he says, before taking a bite, then giving a little groan of pleasure that makes something inside me spark. “These are incredible, Neesha.”
“Wow. I don’t know if I’ve ever heard someone react that way to a cupcake before.”
“You sure you don’t want one? I won’t judge if you groan too.” Then he has the audacity to wink at me.
“And give my friends something to talk about?No, thanks.Do you have your phone?”
He reaches for his pocket and his arm grazes mine. “I forgot I left it in my truck.”
“Emmy won’t be back for at least an hour. Knowing my friends, they’ve probably left me in here on purpose.” I lean against the door and tip my head back in defeat. “This is like something out of a movie.”
He lifts a shoulder. “Sounds like a show I’d actually watch,” he says. “Especially if you’re in it.”
“Is this a horror movie or romantic comedy? Because if it’s a horror movie, I’m definitely the first one to die.”
“Oh, no, you’re very resourceful—your fence-climbing skills are unmatched.”
