Alex lived in a two-story house in Melrose. The exterior was shabby, with an uncultivated garden running wild, although the lawn was neatly mown. Meg knocked on the door and Alex almost immediately opened it. She hadn't seen him since that dinner where they admitted his feelings earlier in the week; now, the sight of him sent butterflies through her stomach.
"Hey," he said, looking at the plate she held out. "What's this?"
"I made whoopie pies," she said, offering the plate. "And I remembered the shortening."
When she had made whoopie pies the first time, she had forgotten the shortening, and the cakes had been flat and dry. Alex had insisted they tasted good, but Meg liked to fix her mistakes.
Alex grinned and let her into the house. To one side was a small kitchen with a cluttered countertop. The other side was a living room, complete with a drum set in the corner and a bass and a guitar on stands.
"Can I have one now?" Alex asked, gesturing towards the whoopie pies.
"I didn't bring them for decoration," Meg said.
Alex grinned and took a whoopie pie from under the saran wrap. He bit into it, then closed his eyes in pleasure. "Okay, I have to admit, I forgot how good your baking was."
Meg smiled and sat on the couch. He joined her, putting one hand on her leg as he ate.
"You're easy to please," Meg said.
"Nothing wrong with that," Alex said, licking the last of the cake off his fingers. "I'm going to have to hide those from the guys. They're really going to like you if you keep bringing things over."
"I don't care if they like me," Meg said. "As long as you do, I'm happy."
"I like you very much," Alex said. He leaned in to give her a quick kiss, just long enough for her lips to crave more as he released her.
"Tell me what you've been up to the past few years," Meg said, leaning against him. They'd been texting through the week, but now that she was in his presence, she wanted to know everything about him that she'd missed out on.
"Well, you can probably guess I didn't go the college route," Alex said, chuckling. "I worked at McDonald's for a few years, but then a friend got me into DJing and I saved up enough to start my own business."
"Any girls I should be jealous of?"
"There were girls," Alex said. "But you don't need to be jealous."
"How many?" Meg asked.
"Aww, I'm not giving you that number."
Meg leaned against the arm of the couch to look at Alex better and nudged his leg with her toes. "That many?" she asked. "You probably don't know the number."
"I never bothered to count," Alex said. "How many boyfriends have you had?"
"Boyfriends? Two after you."
"Why'd you say that as a question?"
"I had flings," Meg said. "I kind of gave up on dating for a bit. Too much work. And the guys I met were never boyfriend material."
"Well, now I'm jealous," Alex said. "Having flings with guys when I could never even touch your boobs?"
Meg flushed and looked down. "My first boyfriend sexually assaulted me," she murmured.
"Oh. Shit. I'm sorry."
She looked up again, shaking it off. "It's fine. It's just - it wasn't anything you did. Part of me wanted to go further with you. But after that, a part of me closed off for a bit."
"I didn't know," Alex said. "God, I'm making an idiot of myself."
"It's okay," Meg said. "If you want, we can rewind to when you were telling me I'm an excellent baker and then you kissed me."
Alex nodded and leaned over her to kiss her lips. She rested her neck against the armrest and he leaned his body against hers.
His first kisses were gentle, but then his lips were firmer as he leaned in to her. As he kissed her, he touched her jawline, her neck, her waist. She wrapped one leg around him.