Page 15 of Strawberry Cake

“Of all the things we talked about, that’s the one you remember?” he laughed, unconsciously stroking her thigh.

“What will you remember?” she asked him.

“Your ocean blue eyes and that cheeky grin.”

Even in the dim light, Decan saw Hope blush. But before he could enjoy the moment properly, he had to remove his hand from her leg to take the next exit. He might not have been as good at hiding his frustration as he thought, because Hope dropped her hand from his hair to his thigh.

“When can I see you again?” he asked, pulling up to her apartment complex.

“Friday evening?”

“You’ll make me wait that long?” Decan whined playfully.

“You can always call.”

“I can and will.”

“Is that a promise or a threat?” she laughed.

Decan brought Hope’s hand to his lips, dusting a kiss across her knuckles. “A magician never reveals his secrets.”

“Promise to text me when you’re home safely, okay?”

“I will.”

Then Hope leaned in and stamped a quick kiss to his cheek. “I’ll see you Friday,” she told him, jumping out of the car.

He watched as she disappeared behind the gate and around the back of the building.

Fuck.

Decan brought a quivering hand to his cheek, tracing the outline of her lips and wishing—praying—that he’d get to feel them again.

Hope

The next evening, Hope met up with Laura at Ikea, having promised her to help furnish her new apartment. They hadn’t even gone up the escalator when Laura started her interrogation.

“So, tell me all about your date,” Laura demanded, tying her hip long blonde hair into a ponytail before hooking her arm into Hope’s.

“I don’t think the butterflies have stopped.”

“Did you kiss?”

“Cheek only, but he did say he liked my eyes and my cheeky grin.”

“Secret hand holding?”

“Not secret and he likes it when I play with his hair.”

Laura squealed and cheered her on, squeezing every little detail out of her. They picked up a few pieces for Laura’s bedroom and spent the evening hauling them into a borrowed truck and to Laura’s new apartment. After a quick dinner they started assembling the dresser Laura had chosen. Halfway through, and three laugh attacks later, Hope’s phone started to ring. And the name on the screen had her heart racing.

“Hi Decan.”

“You sound fluffy. What are you up to?”

“Building a dresser with Laura and questioning our college degrees.”

“Let me guess, the instructions are in Swedish?”