Cupcakes and Christmas - R.J. Scott Page 0,85

convinced we should be together in a completely non-stalkery way. Adam had laughed for ten minutes straight, but then my twin was an asshole, and I ignored him.

“Okay then, I need to leave, but I’ll have my phone in the car, and I can pull over if you need to talk to me for any reason. Any reason at all.” Like you want to talk more, like you don’t want me to get on the plane, like you worked it all out, and you can say you love me again.

He tugged my hand to stop me and pressed his other to his chest. “It hurts, and I don’t like it. I don’t want you to go even though I know you have to, and I don’t want to call you, I want to see you.” Then he dropped his hand. “But that’s going to have to wait. I know.”

It doesn’t have to wait. I don’t need to go back today, I could stay with you, we could talk and fall in love a day at a time.

He kissed me one last time and then smiled. “We’ll talk soon. Drive safely.”

That was it? “You too,” I replied, lamely, and with one final look, I headed for my car. I was almost there when something hit me in the center of my back. I turned to look at what it was. The remains of a snowball were on the ground and then another one hit my chest. Justin was stalking toward me, dragging a case with a duffle over his shoulder, scooping snow from cars and with one hand making loose snowballs to throw at me.

“The hell?” I said when he stopped in front of me.

“I’m coming with you.” He let go of his case and ensured it stayed still before dumping his bag on top of it.

“Huh?”

“I’m coming with you,” he repeated.

“I got that. But what about Kleckso—”

“I don’t love Kleckso. I love you.”

“You… what?”

“Before you, Brody? Jeez, I had nothing but loneliness and a fake me that was forever smiling and acting like he cared. You make me want to care about everything. I want to kiss you, hold you, and I hate it even when you go and get another coffee, and I can’t see you. I’m obsessed. I want you. I need you. I love you.”

He took off his gloves and let them drop to the ground, cradling my face and kissing me deeply. I tugged at every part I could get a hold of just to pull him closer, and we kissed as if we were never going to kiss again.

“Oh my GOD is that Justin Mallory!”

“We love you, Justin!”

“It’s him! Take a photo!”

“Is that his boyfriend!”

We separated reluctantly, and a group of young men and women were taking photos, but Justin pushed me behind him. “No photos, guys, this is private.” He lowered his voice. “I’m sorry, Brody, I didn’t know, this is shit.”

I instantly knew what he was doing, shielding me, showing me that he wasn’t deliberately letting our love be exploited. But he was a celebrity, and these people owned a small part of him that I had to let go. Now I had to show him that I trusted him and understood what he was doing to protect me. So in front of them all I snuggled into his hold and kissed his cheek.

Love was all about what mattered to us, not what we showed the world, but I was happy to share what we had.

Because it was real.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Love is baking, passion, and a happily ever after.

Justin

Next Christmas

Rita wasn’t in a good mood.

Everything had started to go wrong when the Christmas tree fell over in the foyer, smashing five crystal ornaments and almost knocking out the AD. That was why I’d escaped the chaos in the conservatory and was now sitting in the hiding space behind the refrigerators. I was so damn nervous anyway, add in a rabid floor manager, and I was ready to find the nearest box and lock myself in.

“Thought I’d find you here,” Brody said with a smile then slid in next to me, even though there was a perfectly good space in front. Thank God for Brody getting up in my space because my nerves were shot for a hundred different reasons. The creators of World’s Best Baking Show had decided to start a junior version, and I was co-hosting with Courtney, who insisted on hanging onto me as if she was about to fall over, which