My face hurt. Unfortunately, my aunt wouldn't let me drop the smile until she maxed out the storage space on her phone with pictures of me and Nate.

We wore matching baby blue aprons with the Cake Me Up logo on them. The bakery might've been gone, but that didn't stop Aunt Mimi. Until she made a definite decision about what to do, she was working in catering. She even let me set up a web page for her.

Even though she was being blackmailed out of her insurance money, she seemed happier. Like a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Everything had a silver lining if you looked close enough.

When she wasn't whipping up birthday cakes, she was helping me whip Nate into shape before the competition. He was a trooper, not once complaining about the countless hours of us being crammed in the sweltering kitchen.

But practice time was over.

We were at some fancy, extravagant hotel in Los Angeles. All the contestants had to arrive a day early to film introduction videos and so we could all get a tutorial on how the equipment worked.

Aunt Mimi was our chaperone since my dad refused to let Nate and me come alone. He would've come himself if he didn't have an emergency dental surgery.

"I think you got us from every possible angle," I told my aunt through another forced smile.

"Okay, okay," she conceded, putting her phone away. "I'm just so proud of you both. Charm, you didn't let anything get in the way of you getting here. And, Nate, you worked so hard to learn about ten years' worth of baking in a week. The two of you are a force to be reckoned with. I have no doubt you'll be walking out of this place with the first place prize."

Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry.

"Don't cry," Nate said. He tried to sound annoyed—I might have cried a lot of happy tears in recent days—but I could tell he didn't mean it.

"Bakers!" a short man wearing a pastel colored bow tie called out. Everyone in the lobby came to attention. "I'm Daniel Cho. Think of me as your mentor for this weekend. Now, if the contestants can follow me, we'll get started with orientation."

Daniel started down the hall, followed by the other bakers.

"I'll make sure your things get to the room," Aunt Mimi said, already tracking down a bellhop with one of those luggage carts.

Nate put his arm over my shoulders as we followed Daniel and the others. "You ready to bake, cupcake?"

"Nate, we can't make cupcakes all four rounds." When he started snickering, I realized my mistake. "I thought we agreed to put that nickname to rest?"

"I don't remember agreeing to that," he said. In a more serious tone, he asked, "You're really nervous, huh?"

I chewed on my bottom lip and nodded. There was a lot riding on this competition. I hadn't told Aunt Mimi yet, but Nate and I agreed that if we won, the money would go to her. My dream had been to work at Cake Me Up with my aunt and I still wanted that. So, it made sense to help her rebuild her bakery. The prize money would be a huge help.

"We have to win," I said finally.

"Done."

I looked up at him, lips fighting back a smile. "Done? Just like that?"

"Just like that," he echoed, pulling me tighter against him. "Anything you want, I'll get it."

"Oh, really? Then I want a pony."

"Done."

I laughed. "I'll believe it when I see it."

The knot of nerves in my belly eased. Nate was good at that. Relaxing me when I needed it most. And I really needed it that day.

Daniel led us into a room set up with tables and chairs, a binder on each table labeled with our names. He went over the rules with us, focusing mostly on the parts that would result in getting disqualified.

I thought the challenges were going to be a surprise, but there was a list of the four rounds included in the binder.

Challenge #1: Fresh Fruit

Make any pastry you want as long as you use fruit

Challenge #2: The Secret Ingredient

Contestants are given a secret ingredient that must be used in their recipe

Challenge #3: Winter in July

Make any pastry you want, but it must have a winter holiday theme

Challenge #4: Flower Power

Make any pastry you want, but you must decorate with flowers you've made from ingredients

That last one worried me. I still wasn't confident about my flowers. And no matter how fast a learner Nate was, his weren't looking too hot either. If I came this far in the competition just to lose because of flowers, I'd scream.

After Daniel drilled the rules into our heads, he went over how to use the stoves and other equipment. He also repeated that if we were putting anything into the oven or taking it out, we had to notify a camera person so they could catch it on camera.

Nate didn't understand that part, but as a frequent watcher of baking competitions, I knew how satisfying it was to see baked good come out of the oven.

After going over the binder, the part I dreaded most came. The video promos. The competition would air on live tv but the promos would air in later broadcasts and put on their YouTube channel. We only had to introduce ourselves and talk about what the competition meant to us. Sounded easy enough. So why were my pits starting to sweat?

"Relax, Charm," Nate said, his breath tickling my ear.

We were still in the conference room, waiting to be called upon to film our promo. The other contestants were socializing with each other. Nate and I probably looked antisocial since we hadn't moved from our seats.

"Here." Nate slid a piece of paper over to me, a drawing on it.

My brows pulled together. "You drew me a dog?"

"What? No. That's a pony," he corrected.

"Oh." I bit my lip to keep from laughing. "Yeah. No. I can see it now."

He narrowed his eyes at me and I lost it. Laughing harder than I should've. Nate broke and joined me.

"Hello!" We looked up to find a woman with gray hair styled in a long braid and a man staring down at us over his glasses. "I'm Alessa and this is my Jason. We're just going around introducing ourselves. I know were supposed to be competition, but there's no reason we can't keep it friendly."

We introduced ourselves and Alessa pointed down at Nate's pony drawing. "Is that a dachshund?"

I held in another fit of giggling as Nate nodded. "Yes, it is."

"It looks just like our Tinkerbell," she said, turning to her husband. "Doesn't it, Jason?" Jason only grunted. That seemed to be his preferred way of communicating.

Alessa launched into a story about her dog Tinkerbell and the four other dogs they had. All rescues. I was relieved when they were called away to film their promos.

Nate and I decided to be social. It was awkward with everyone being so much older than us. The closest in age were Rita and Erin, twins who were dressed in identical all black outfits. The only difference between them was their hair. One had bangs and the other didn't. They were LA natives and lived for all things gothic.

Then there was Ibram and Carmen, two best friends from Arizona. I recognized Carmen from her YouTube channel. She was really creative with sugar art. So far, they seemed like our biggest competition.

Lastly, there was Fred and Mark, school teachers from New York. They recently adopted a son and were showing us every single picture of him they had on their phones when, finally, Nate and I were called to do our promo.

Don't get me wrong, the dogs and the baby were adorable, but there were only so many times a person could go "aww, cute".

♡ ♡ ♡

As soon as we made it to our hotel room, I collapsed on the bed. It was barely one in the afternoon and I was exhausted. All the excitement and nerves wore me out.

I could feel Nate standing over me. Turning over onto my back, I stared up at him. "What?"

"You don't notice anything missing?"

Glancing around the room, it all seemed in order. We had our luggage, a tv, the gift basket of stuff from the Bake-A-Palooza sponsors. Then it hit me. "There's only one bed."

"One bed." He confirmed, holding up his index finger.

"Maybe the couch folds out?" We went over and pulled the cushions off. It was just a regular couch.

"It's fine," Nate said. "You and Mimi can take the bed and I'll sleep on the couch." He laid on it, doing a poor job at making himself look comfortable. "This is...comfy."

"You're a liar," I said, holding back a laugh at his pained expression as he tried different positions on the couch. "We're going to be running around baking for hours tomorrow. You won't be able to function without a good night's sleep. And all you're going to get from this couch is back pain."

He sat up, eyes twinkling with mischief. "So, what you're saying is that we have to share the bed."

I rolled my eyes. He was such a boy sometimes. "Don't look so excited. We will be doing nothing but sleeping."

"Ya damn right!"

I jumped at the sound of my aunt's muffled voice. "Aunt Mimi, where are you?"

"Bathroom," she called out. "The bathtub has jets. So, if you gotta pee, hold it." Then she started moaning.

"Wanna check out the rest of the hotel?" Nate asked, suddenly.

"Please."

♡ ♡ ♡

The hotel had a French theme going on. The gift shop was full of Eiffel towers and plushies shaped like macarons. There was a fancy restaurant with crystal chandeliers and an indoor pool we weren't allowed to enter without swimwear—something I didn't think to pack.

"Did meeting the competition make you more or less nervous?" Nate asked as we strolled around the courtyard. There was a large tent set up on the lush green lawn, The Great British Bake-Off style. I tried to look up how they got the ovens to work outdoors and came up with nothing.

"I'm only really worried about Carmen and Ibram," I admitted. "I learned a few of my decorating tricks from Carmen's YouTube channel. She's good at working with chocolate, caramel and sugar art."

"Daniel said the judges would be paying attention to taste as well as presentation," he pointed out. "So, they could have the prettiest cake out there and it might end up tasting like shit."

"True," I agreed. "What about you? Who are you worried about?"

"The twins," he said without hesitation. "Not because I think they'll be better. I just think the judges will give them a high score to avoid being cursed."

I snorted. "Really?"

"Yes! You can't tell me you didn't get those vibes from them."

"I didn't," I said as we circled the courtyard a second time. "They seem nice."

"Right," he scoffed. "Remember that when you wake up in the middle of the night to them crab walking across the ceiling."

"I think somebody has watched The Exorcist one too many times."

"The what?"

Before I could scold him for not knowing his cult classics, my phone buzzed with a message.

"It's a text from Cash," I said, putting my phone away. "He wants to know if the audience will be caught on camera so he can dress appropriately."

There wouldn't be an audience on in the courtyard, but my family would be there to watch the live broadcast up in the hotel room.

My entire family was going to be there cheering me on. Nate, on the other hand, things with him and his mom were strained. He never brought her up and he spent most of his time at my house over the last week.

"Will your mom be here tomorrow?"

"Nah." I didn't miss the sadness that flashed on his face. "I haven't even told her about any of it."

That was news to me. "Where does she think you are right now?"

He shrugged, scratching his elbow. "I don't know. I haven't really talked to her since I moved out. Lorenzo's mom said it was cool if I stay with them as long as I make them dessert every night."

I stopped in my tracks. "You moved out? Why?"

He stopped, too, brows furrowed as he turned to face me. "What do you mean 'why'? She helped my uncle screw over your aunt."

"Yeah, but she's your mom."

"What was I supposed to do?" He asked, sounding exasperated. "Sit across from her at the dinner table and act like she wasn't trying to steal thousands of dollars from my girlfriend's family?"

My girlfriend. Those words completely derailed my thoughts. Since that night in my kitchen, we hadn't had much time to discuss labels. It was all baking, all the time.

Hearing him say it—my girlfriend—it was like swallowing the sun and having it warm me up from the inside out.

He must've realized what he'd said, because he seemed to lose his train of thought as well. The tension from talking about his mom melted from his shoulders.

"Not that I think you're my—Unless you want to—" He was rambling, his face turning red as he struggled to get his words out. It was, honestly, the cutest thing I'd ever seen.

I moved to my tip-toes and kissed him because that was my favorite way to shut him up. He kissed me back and I couldn't remember ever liking someone as much as I liked him.

My arms were around his neck and his were on my waist and for a few moments, all I thought about was how soft his lips were.

"So," he said, leaning his forehead against mine. "You're cool with the girlfriend thing?"

I played with the hairs at the nape of neck and nodded. "It's a hundred percent better than being called Cupcake."

His chest vibrated with laughter and he his lips found mine once again.

My eyes fluttered closed as I tried to absorb every bit of the moment because soon there would be no time for kissing. Only baking.