He laughs into the kiss, warm and sweet, and I can feel my cheeks prickling hot again as I settle back to sit cross-legged, each foot tucked beneath a knee and hands rested in my lap. My brow furrows curiously as he reaches into the basket for yet one more container, pulling out a little cake with a single candle in it.

He looks at me expectantly then and, though my smile refuses to let up any, I only shake my head stupidly. "Well, it's a birthday cake, I assume," I tell him because that part I get. Is it also a date cake? Is there such a thing?