“Can I open my eyes now?” She’s bouncing up and down in her chair. I forgot how much she loves surprises. Her joy is contagious. I chuckle before agreeing.

“Okay, you can open them now.” Her lids snap open and she takes in my poor attempt at cake decorating. Really, I should have signed up for a class or asked for help. As I look at my cake, a box mix baked into a foil rectangle, covered in store-bought icing with “I’m Sorry” spelled out in Skittles pieces with their colors bleeding, even I have to admit it’s pretty sad looking.

My gaze flicks to Kate’s face. Tears roll down her still flushed cheeks. Shit. I’m no Betty Crocker. I should have asked for help.

“Hey. Don’t cry. I know the cake sucks. I’m dumb. Remember to never sign me up for Cupcake Wars. This was stupid.” I reach out to pull the cake off the counter but Kate slaps her hand over my arm.

“Don’t. Don’t you dare take this cake away!” I look up from her hand with surprise, then brace myself as Kate jumps onto my lap. Her mouth covers mine in a hot, demanding kiss and I relinquish control, enjoying her lips on mine. Her arms wrap around my neck and shoulders to hold me tight. Kate’s kisses slow to soft pecks before she leans back; her gaze holds me captive.

“My cake sucks,” I murmur.

“Shut your mouth. This is the best damn cake I’ve ever seen.” She releases one arm from my neck to pull the pan close and stabs a large piece from the middle with a fork. It’s covered in candy and frosting, and when she shovels the bite into her mouth, cake crumbs coat her lips.

“I think we need to get your eyes checked.” She looks down at the cake again, her eyes filling with unshed tears.

“Hey. This is supposed to make you happy, not cry.” I use my thumbs to wipe the tears that spill.

“It’s just that—” She fills another forkful and feeds it to me. “No one has ever made me a cake before.”

“No one? Not even your mom?” She shakes her head.

“No. My mother never baked. Always store bought cakes and cupcakes. You know the perfect looking ones with the airbrushed paint looking frosting? And the funny thing was everyone was always jealous. Like wow, what a cool cake. And all I ever wanted was a homemade one. Like Linda used to make for Evie and Melissa. To show that she cared, you know? That it was okay the cake didn’t look perfect because she made it for me.” She drops her gaze at the admission and looks away to fork another bite. “Silly really, now who’s being stupid?” She smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“I don’t think you’re stupid at all.” I run the pad of my thumb across her lips where a touch of frosting remains. “You’ve got a little.” My hands pull her flush against me and I trace her lips with my tongue. Her eyes flare with the same heat that rushes through my veins. She squirms on my seat and I know she can feel what she does to me. How much I want her again.

“Kate. I—I know I don’t have much to offer. I’m stubborn. I’m no good at this normal, civilian life crap. I don’t know how to cook amazing food like Tate; I don’t make lots of money like Drew; I can’t sing for shit—” I pause to reign in the jealousy that comes with that last one. “But when I’m with you… When it’s just us… I just—” Why is it so difficult to spit the words out? Fucking grow a pair! I inhale a deep breath. I can do this. “My cake decorating skills suck, too. But I’m glad you like my sad cake with the Skittles on top. I guess what I’m trying to say—”

“In the jungle! The mighty jungle! The lion sleeps tonight!” Bang bang bang. “Kate! Katie! My Love! My jungle love! You sexy bitch! Wake up! Your lion awaits!”

“What the fuck?” Kate hops off my lap and we both move to the front door to peek out the window.

“It’s Trent.” She reaches to unlock the door. Hell no. I slam my hand against the door to keep it from opening and pin her with a hard glare.

“No. He’s not coming in here.” She sighs and rolls her eyes.

“Jon. Move your hand from the door right now.”

“Kate! I know you’re in there! Open the door.” More banging. I can feel the tremors from where my hand stays firmly planted on the wooden panel. “You are the wind beneath my wings! I can fly higher than an—Shit! Open the door Kate!”

“He’s going to wake the entire complex. Move.” She shoves me out of the way and I let her. I’m in shock that after everything tonight she’s going to pick him. I never stood a chance. The door swings open and a very intoxicated Trent sways before us, gripping the doorway for support.

“Trent. What are you doing here?” Kate offers a polite smile.

“Babe! I’m so sorry, chick. I shouldn’t have left tonight. I took a cab. I couldn’t sleep without knowing you were okay, that I didn’t blow my chance.” His words slur together.

“Trent. It’s okay. We can talk tomorrow. Just get some sleep.” Her voice is calm, direct.

“Oh, thank God.” He staggers inside wrapping Kate in an embrace, almost knocking her over. I cross my arms across my chest. She doesn’t want me, fine. But I’m not going to walk away from this without a fight. He releases her, a loopy grin as he staggers backward.

“Trent. Do you have anyone I can call to come get you?” She’s assertive and I hold on to the hope she’s starting to realize this guy’s a complete asshat.

“No! Babe! I wanted to see you. Marquee! We played the fucking Marquee tonight and we killed it, Kate. Fucking killed it.” He sways and staggers.

“Maybe you should sit down?” she offers, and he nods. “Yeah, good idea. This room keeps moving.” He practically stumbles onto the couch and sprawls out, head resting back against the cushion as he studies the spinning fan.

“Whoa. Trippy.” I take Trent’s sudden fascination with our cooling device to grab Kate’s arm and drag her into the kitchen.

“Kate, he needs to leave. Now,” I bark.

“Jon, I can’t just throw him out. Look at him.” We turn our heads to see Trent attempting to follow the spinning blades with his eyes. He chuckles every few spins with the amusement it’s providing.

“Now. I don’t want him here.”

“Jon, don’t do this. He just needs somewhere to sleep this off. I can’t throw him in a cab like this. I don’t even know where he lives.” Her admission catches me off guard. She hasn’t slept with Trent?

“You don’t? Wait! I thought—You haven’t slept with him?” Her eyes narrow and her lips pinch together.

“What the fuck, Jon? Do you really think I’m so easy? A slut? After everything I’ve given you. Shared with you. I can’t believe you still see me that way.” Anger burns from her eyes.

“Kate. I’m sorry. I just don’t know what to do here.”

“Babe. I don’t think immabe getting Mr. Trent up tonight,” Dumbass interjects from the couch.

“That’s okay, Trent. Let me get you a drink,” Kate answers evenly before turning to retrieve a glass. Really, the man’s had enough.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” Trent’s hammered, I doubt he needs another drink.

“Water. Water, Jon! You must think I’m stupid, too. I think you should go to bed. I need to take care of Trent.” Her voice is low and harsh.

“Kate. I don’t want to leave things like this between us.” I run my hands through my hair and blow out a breath. This is all wrong. Why can’t I get things right? Stupid rock-boy-pain-in-my-ass. “I always fuck up what I’m trying to say when I’m with you!”

“So now that’s my fault too? Look, I’m really tired, Jon. This night hasn’t been anything like I expected.” She ignores me to fill the glass.

“Fine. Okay. But we are not through here. I mean it, Kate. Tonight didn’t go how I wanted, either. We need to talk. And if you need any help with that—” I point to where Trent’s head bobs weakly, trying to hold onto consciousness. “—just yell for me.”

I stomp back to my room. I try to ignore the jealous anger that flares when I hear her talking softly with Trent. She’s taking care of him. Fuck! I slam the door, turn and hit the damn thing with all my might. Crunch. I pull my hand back and the broken wood scrapes my skin. A palm size hole remains in the door.