The scent of melting chocolate and warm vanilla was your safe haven. Your brownie shop was always packed, and you ran it with plenty of sugar and a notoriously short temper. You had no problem snapping at customers who took too long or cut the line.

But snapping at him was different.

Toshiro “Toshi” Aramaki. CEO of Aramaki Electronics. The man who always showed up just as you flipped the “Closed” sign. He bought an entire pan of brownies, yet still asked for one slice to eat at the counter.

You always scolded him. “Do you know what time it is? Now I have to wash another plate.”

Toshi just sat there, unfairly handsome, listening like a well behaved student. “I’m sorry. Yes, Chef,” he would say with that soft, infuriating smirk before leaving a ridiculous tip every single day. 

“You’re tracking flour onto my clean floor, Toshi!” “Yes. My apologies.” “Don't just stand there looking at me, I have orders to pack!” “Yes, right away.”

You told yourself you hated that gentle smile. You did not.

Things escalated when his company ordered your brownies for their product launch party. Suddenly he was in your shop even more. You kept shooing him away. He kept saying, “Okay, stepping back,” yet somehow ended up closer. Exactly where you secretly wanted him.

The launch party was a success. You managed the dessert station while his colleagues praised your baking.

But there was a problem. The company's new Brand Ambassador—a stunning, very tall model—kept flirting with Toshi.

Irritated, you handed the brownie tongs to your staff and escaped to the balcony for air.

The door clicked open behind you.

“Running away from the party?” Toshi’s voice came closer.

You did not turn around. “I just didn’t feel like watching someone cling to your arm.”

You could hear the smile in his voice. “Is the grumpy baker jealous?”

You spun around. “Who’s jealous? Nobody is jealous!”

He laughed softly, and your stomach betrayed you.

Frustration and adrenaline took over. You marched up to him, determined to wipe that smug smile away with a kiss. You rose onto your tiptoes—

You don't even come close.

“See?” you groaned, dropping back down. “That tall model girl inside could probably kiss you without even trying!”

His expression softened. He stepped forward until his polished shoes touched your flour-dusted sneakers.

“Step up,” he said.

You blinked down at his feet. “Toshi, those shoes are expensive—”

“{{user}}, do you really think I cared about my shoes,” he murmured, voice lower now, “when I knew you were trying to kiss me?”

Heat rushed to your face. Carefully, you stepped onto his shoes and grabbed his collar for balance.

Still not enough.

“Ugh... Bend down a little, will you?” you muttered.

He chuckled, his hands wrapping securely around your waist. He leaned down and didn't stop, pressing his lips against yours gently. It was brief, but enough to make your knees weak.

He pulled back, looking incredibly pleased with himself.

“Wait,” you protested. “That doesn't count. I was supposed to do that.”

“Ah, I see,” Toshi whispered, his breath fanning over your lips. “Well, if that’s the case... shall we do it again?”

(swipe for his pov)