The Magic Cupcake

by River Laurent

  “Well, now you’re stuck with me.” He grins as I hand over the glass.

  “What do you mean?” Damn it, I’m blushing. I haven’t even had any wine yet, so I have nothing to blame it on.

  “Once Tyrion makes a friend, they’re stuck with him. Which ropes you in by association.”

  Thank you, Tyrion. “I guess I’ll have to deal with it, won’t I?” I motion to the sofa.

  He takes a seat and looks around.

  Meanwhile, I’m observing him. The man can wear a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, I’ll give him that. His arms, shoulders and chest are clearly defined even in a sweater, and his big powerful hands…

  “Your roommate not in tonight then?” he observes, watching me watching him.

  “No, Danny’s out with a friend,” I say, covering my embarrassment by waving my hand vaguely towards the door. Hmm… I wonder why he asked that? I feel a little bit crazy. Like a black widow spider, I’ve lured this innocent man into my empty house and now I’m trying to seduce him. Andrea’s voice is in my head, telling me it is the 21st century and women have started taking the initiative and going for what they want.

  The dogs chase each other back and forth and the bread warms in the oven as I take a seat opposite him. I tell him that it won’t be long and his stomach suddenly growls loudly.

  He clutches it and apologizes.

  I giggle and he laughs too.

  “I didn’t realize you were that hungry! I’m so sorry, I’ll go dish up now.”

  We take our places at the table. He smiles and looks into my eyes as our legs touch ever so slightly under the table. His eyes are a mesmerizing green.

  “Hope you like sparerib ragu with fettuccine. It’s very high carbs, I’m afraid.”

  “Don’t let the way I look fool you.” He grins, lifting a massive forkful of fettuccine from the bowl. “I believe in balance. I love tucking into a bowl of pasta.” His eyes then widen at the first bite of pasta, studded with chunks of carefully shredded short rib. “Wow. Heaven.”

  My cheeks flush, along with the rest of me. “Really?”

  “Yeah, really. I think I might have to make a habit of having dinner here.”

  I beam with happiness. “My mom taught me to cook. She’d treat it like a cooking show as if she was on TV. It was fun. Then it was Lauren’s turn.”

  “Lauren,” he whispers with a half-smile. “An old-fashioned name. I like it.”

  “After my grandmother,” I explain. “I think she’s the one who taught Mom to cook too.”

  “You have a tight family?”

  “Oh, sure.” I probably bore him half to death with stories about family holidays and dinners and other memories—but then he counters with memories of his own, and before I know it the candles on the table are all but burned out, and we’re seated in front of empty plates but still talking. I could talk to him all night.

  I could do a lot of things with him all night, if he was so inclined. I only thought I wanted him before this. Now I know I do, because I’m getting to know the real person behind that body and that face. He’s a pretty amazing person, and I know now, that he is only temporarily going to be my neighbor. He lives uptown in an amazing penthouse that he’s redesigning. He showed me the pics. I remember now Danny remarking that he didn’t belong in this neighborhood.

  “Want me to help with the dishes?” he offers.

  “Let’s forget the dishes for now,” I suggest, standing. “How about something sweet?”

  He smiles with a wink. “I could definitely go for something sweet right about now. I have a huge sweet tooth.”

  Oh, sweet Jesus, he’s the sexiest freaking thing alive. I’m a bit of prude, Andrea will tell you, but at this moment, I’m seriously tempted to clear the table with a sweep of my arms and throw myself at him. Literally, the only thing stopping me is the knowledge that the dogs would hurt themselves on the broken dishes. Or the fact, that I am the biggest coward in the world.

  “Go make yourself comfortable,” I murmur, pointing to the couch.

  The pups have tired themselves out, both of them snoozing on an armchair. Jackson pats both of their heads as I go to the kitchen.

  I smile to myself as I plate them, thinking of that crazy idea I had of putting a love potion in his cupcake. To think Nina actually thought it was a good idea. He’s not just gorgeous and sexy. He’s smart, funny, real and he loves his dog… oh, jeez, how can I not fall for somebody who loves his dog that much? He isn’t just the sexy hunk next door anymore. He’s a person, a real person, and he deserves better than to be tricked.

  Anyway, it was just funny-smelling water in that vial. Nothing else. Very, very expensive water. Oh well, I guess the gypsy needed the money more than me. I have a great life. I don’t need a love potion. I’m doing just fine without it. I bring back the cupcakes ‒ after making sure to smooth down my hair and adjust my bra beforehand ‒ pushing my boobs up and out a little. It can’t hurt.

  I lower our cupcakes to the coffee table.

  “Ooh, what’s this?” he asks, holding up the plate in front of him to admire.

  “Red velvet. My mom’s specialty. You have to try it. It’s won awards at baking contests.”

  “Really?” He begins to unwrap it. Suddenly, he lets out a yawn. A big one. “I’m sorry,” he says, smiling apologetically.

  “I know, I’m pretty boring…” I pretend to chuckle, but I’m crushed and wondering if it’s me. Am I boring the hell out of him?

  “You’re not.” He licks frosting from his fingers. “I’m just exhausted. It’s been a long week, and I guess it’s catching up to me.”

  “Tell me about it. I had a hell of a week, myself.”

  He glances toward the kitchen. “Could I maybe have some coffee? I know it’s asking a lot after you made that incredible dinner…”

  “Oh, of course!” I’m off the couch before he even has the chance to finish the request. I want to spend as much time as I can with him, since I doubt I’ll get the chance again. He’s leaving in two weeks and men like him don’t usually end up with women like me.

  In the kitchen, I look at my phone. Two new messages.

  Andrea: Good luck! But DON’T give him that stupid potion. You’ve got this! Just be your gorgeous self!

  Nina: OMG I’m so excited! How’s it going?? Did you give him the love cake yet??? Love you xxxxxxx

  I send Mom a quick message:

  Hey Mom! Sorry about late reply. Busy! Can we do tomorrow instead? Love you x

  She doesn’t need to know about my date. She’d only get way too excited and ask loads of questions.

  As I am pouring the coffee into two cups, my cellphone rings. I glance at it not intending to pick it up, but when I see that it is Danny, I immediately take the call. He would never call if it weren’t urgent. I snatch up the phone. “What’s up, Danny?”

  “Please don’t be angry with me, but I put the potion into the red velvet cupcake.”

  My stomach lurches. “What?”

  “I don’t know what I was thinking, but I just wanted you to be happy, you know?”

  “I can’t believe you did that?” I whisper fiercely.

  “Sorry. I know you really like this guy and I just wanted to increase your odds.”

  “I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” I say tightly and end the call. I start walking towards the living room. Even if it’s never going to work, it’s still the wrong thing to do. Who knows what is actually in that vial? Zelda could’ve given me anything.

  Oh God, I have to get there before he eats the cake. And now my palms are sweaty and my stomach’s in even tighter knots than before.

  I almost forget to bring the coffee back into the living room, I’m in such a hurry to stop him from eating that stupid cupcake. I’ll come up with a reason why he can’t eat it. Like… I just remembered that I forgot to add sugar to the batter or something that’ll make me look flaky, but will at least keep him from choking and foaming at the mouth on my living room sofa.

&
nbsp; “Hey, you know what…?” I trail off as I enter the room, and I just might lose my dinner all over the floor.

  Because there, on the coffee table in front of Jackson, is a plate with nothing but a paper wrapper in the middle and a few crumbs left from what used to be a cupcake.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Lauren

  Oh, shit. Shit and hell. I can’t believe this.

  What’s he going to do? Start twitching? Convulsing? Choking? Jesus Christ, they’ll be able to trace his death to me. The cupcake. And the girls, they were there when I bought the potion. The cops might pressure them to testify against me. They’ll find me guilty. I’ll end up in the electric chair. Oh, wait they don’t do that inhumane thing anymore. Oh, my God, I’ll get injected with poisonous chemicals. A fitting end for a poisoner.

  What am I supposed to do now? I’d have to drop Danny in it and I don’t want to do that.

  I could pretend we didn’t know what would happen to him. Yes, I think it would be better if people thought I was an idiot for believing in love potions than to think I’d poison somebody. I’d rather have them laugh at me than put me in the electric chair. Do they even do that anymore?

  He’s sitting there, looking at me—and then, he smiles. “Is everything okay?” he asks, still smiling. He stretches his long arms across the back of the couch, one on either side of himself, relaxing like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

  “Uh… nothing?”

  He doesn’t look like he’s about to start choking. He doesn’t look any different at all. Surely, Zelda couldn’t have got away with selling poison all this while.

  His eyebrows rise in a questioning way.

  Right. He’s probably not going to die on me. Time to move. I look like an idiot just standing here with a stupid look on my face. His dog breaks me from my stupor. Tyrion runs in circles around my ankles, probably smelling the coffee. Or my paralyzing fear.

  Praying the potion is nothing more than very expensive colored water, I walk over to him. “Here you go.” I hand over the coffee. “Can I bring you milk or sugar?”

  “No, thanks. Black is fine,” he says sipping the coffee, “The cake was great, by the way.”

  “Great,” I choke out. I sit back down opposite, nibbling on my cupcake and studying his face for any signs. I remember the gypsy telling me how fast the effects start. But how fast did she mean? I can only pray that it’s all bullshit like Andrea says.

  “Are you ok?” he asks.

  Now, I realize I’m staring. “S-sure,” I stammer. Are his eyes a little glazed?

  One corner of his mouth quirks up in the most panty-melting smirk I’ve ever seen.

  Holy. Moly. What is happening here? Is he flirting with me? No, he’s just smiling. That’s what it is. He can’t help the fact that everything he does is sexy.

  “You know something?” he continues with a gleam in his eye.

  “What?” I breathe. No, I don’t know anything right now. Every thought, every sensation is all wrapped up in him.

  I feel his foot brush against mine under the table. Stroking gently. My heartbeat quickens as my eyes meet his and he’s looking at me in a way I’ve wanted him to for so long.

  “I’m really glad you asked me over for dinner tonight.”

  I barely notice when he takes the cup from my hands—good thing, since I might have dropped it. I think shock is making my brain go haywire. “W-why are you so glad, then?” I whisper as my heart goes a mile a minute. Isn’t it exactly what I want? Yes, but I’m afraid it might all be a dream. That it is just the work of the magic in the cupcake.

  He stares deep into my eyes. “Because I might not have had the chance to see how gorgeous you are, otherwise. Always running in or out, always bundled up. I could hardly see you. I didn’t get the opportunity to talk to you until now. I’m so glad I did, finally.”

  Gulp. “You are?”

  He moves closer than ever, until I can feel the hard, unyielding thigh against mine. Our legs are actually touching. Oh, my goodness, it’s been too long since I’ve had a man.

  But then, I’ve never even been this close to a man like him.

  “Yes. I am,” he murmurs.

  His breath is so warm and sweet on my face. I lick my lips. I swear it’s a purely nervous gesture with nothing behind it, but he groans in the back of his throat.

  It’s working. Oh, my God, it’s working. I can’t believe how fast it is working! He’s reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. Even that simple, gentle touch sends a shiver down my spine.

  “I can’t believe how much I want to touch you,” he whispers, sounding genuinely surprised. I wonder what he’d think if I told him why the urge is suddenly so strong. No, I don’t have to wonder. He’ll be screaming abuse then out the door as fast as his big, masculine legs will go.

  I feel his hands on my shoulders, kneading gently. Then his breath on my neck and he’s kissing me. His lips feel so soft against my skin I gasp quietly. It feels unbelievably good. Divine, actually.

  He takes my hand and we sit on the sofa together, smiling. I’m trying to play it cool but I haven’t been in this situation for such a long time and I feel out of my depth. He’s playing with my hands, stroking them, running his fingers through mine. Just the slightest touch from him sends electric shivers through my body.

  His fingers trace the line of my jaw and I can hardly breathe. This is happening. This is really happening. The potion was real all along. It’s completely illogical, but the proof is right here, leaning in, closing the distance between us, one breathless inch at a time until…

  Until our mouths meet and I sink into the sweetest, deepest, most toe-curling kiss imaginable. He slides his hands into my hair, holding my head in place while his mouth moves sensuously over mine. I can barely bear it because so many things are hitting me at once.

  He nibbles at my bottom lip and I feel his tongue against it, warm and soft. God, he’s good at this. We’re embracing, passionately, our arms wrapped around each other as we kiss even deeper. A feeling of unadulterated lust surges through my body, any insecurities from earlier is completely gone. I do still know how to do this I think to myself as his hands snake down my back, pulling me closer.

  And oh my dear Lord—it’s fucking great.

  I run my hands up his back, feeling his muscular shoulders, his whole body so taut and firm through his T-shirt.

  He unbuttons my shirt, kissing my exposed throat. His hands are around my waist. “God, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, as his fingers reach for the first button on my shirt.

  “So are you,” I whisper back, my fingers creeping up inside his shirt and finally touching that gorgeous trail of hair, tracing it from his navel to the top of his jeans. I let my fingers trail further down, over the bulge of his pants and he quietly groans.

  He kisses the silky skin of my breasts that are exposed. His hand cups them. He breaks off the kiss just long enough to smile, then wraps me up in another—even deeper—kiss that completely knocks my world off its axis. His tongue slides between my lips and touches mine as my fingers curl into claws that just about tear his T-shirt. And oh, jeez, his shoulders are even stronger than they look. I couldn’t have imagined he would feel so good under my hands.

  What feels even better is his hands and what they’re doing to me. He strokes my hair, then trails down to my back. His fingers press and stroke, pulling me closer, working their way down to the hem of my blouse. When he touches the sensitive skin just above the waistband of my jeans, I arch my back and moan into his mouth.

  This is really happening. I can’t believe it, but here we are.

  He pushes me back a little and I can’t help but let him ease me against the couch cushions, one of my legs finding a way to wrap around his and pull him in. He kisses my cheek, my jaw, my ear. His breath is hot, fast and sends shivers down my spine. I hold onto the back of his neck before plunging both hands into his hair, holding his head in place as he nibbles my neck.

>   When I groan softly, he chuckles and does it again. A little harder this time. Playing with me. He’s loving this as much as I am.

  Oh, yes. Judging by the hardness pressing against my hip, he’s very into this. I can’t help but rub against it a little. He’s not the only one who can play.

  He then ups the ante by lifting my lace and satin camisole over my head, leaving my skin and the dancing nerves exposed. His hand slides over my stomach and up, cupping one of my breasts before moving even further to touch my face and sink into my hair again.

  “I just wanna let you know something,” I manage to breathe between kisses.

  “Hmm?” he whispers in my ear.

  “I don’t usually do this on the first date.”

  His hands slide up and down my thighs and the heat growing between my legs gets hotter than ever. “Then you haven’t had nearly enough fun in your life.” He chuckles before slipping his tongue back into my mouth.

  It is the sexiest thing anyone has done to me.

  Knock, knock, knock.

  We both freeze—my hand on his butt, his hand on my boob, staring at each other like a couple of teenagers who just got caught dry humping in Mom and Dad’s rec room.

  “I just won’t answer,” I whisper, straining upward for another kiss because I’m pretty sure I’ll die if he doesn’t kiss me again, right this very minute. It’s like a thirst I didn’t know I had until just now.

  Funny how such intense thirst can disappear the second the sound of a key sliding into the lock hits my ears.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Lauren

  Only one person has a key to this apartment besides me, Danny, and the landlord. Considering the fact that the landlord doesn’t even live in the city and he owes us twenty-four hours advance warning before paying a visit and Danny would boil himself to death rather than ruin my rare romantic interlude, it can only be only be one person on the other side of that door.

  Only one person I know who’s obnoxious enough and clueless enough to try to walk into my house without announcement. Only one terrible person I’m stupid enough to have given a key to, but only under strict assurance that it would be used in case of emergency and for no other reason.