His eyebrows shoot up, and his amusement grows. “You’re sorry because you’re not a fan? Or because of the impromptu food fight?”
“Yes?”
“Well, we’ll pretend it’s for the flour, and I’ll work on the other part.”
Slowly, my brain sparks back to life. I cock my head to the side, narrowing my eyes. “And how, exactly, would you go about that?”
He gives me a slow smile. “Oh you know—the usual. Write you a song, sing to you on stage. Before you know it, you’ll be holding a handmade poster with my name on it.”
And dang it, though he looks as earnest and wholesome as apple pie, his eyes give away that he’s teasing. And wouldn’t you just know it, sweet, dry humor is apparently my kryptonite when it comes to cocky musicians.
“Decorated with hearts and puffy paint,” I say, matching his expression.
His grin is fast and devastating. “Naturally.”
Sadie clears her throat. “Um, Harper? We kind of need…”
With his gray eyes still locked on mine, Mason says, “I’ll let you get back to work.”
I rip my gaze away from his, nodding, and he ambles away.
Sadie leans close, her eyes bright. “Oh. Wow.”
I only manage to nod. Now that it’s over, I feel like an idiot, especially considering the cameras caught it all.
She nudges me in the side like we’re actually friends and gives me a knowing look. “So…do you want on the show now?”
And though I frown at her, and though I’ll deny it until I’m blue in the face, I do want on that show. Oh, do I ever.
Avoiding her knowing eyes, I begin to clean up my mess. “We need to hurry. We’ll never finish if we talk all afternoon.”
“Let’s watch it again,shall we?” Riley asks, restarting the awful video. I shake my head, my cheeks hot with embarrassment.
My entire family—and all of Brandon’s as well—has gathered in our living room to witness Sadie’s and my national television debut. Thankfully, our parents watched once, laughed and cheered, and then wandered into the kitchen to chat, taking my often-obnoxious, twin eight-year-old brothers with them.
You’d think Riley would let it go, considering Linus showed up a few hours ago, but she happily perched on the floor, snuggled next to him, and continued her torture.
Watching it is worse than living it. I come off as a ditzy, wide-eyed groupie.
At least, appearance wise, I look good. Somehow, I managed to mostly miss myself when I dropped the flour sifter. My hair is perfect, and my makeup is in place. I was afraid the lights would make me look shiny, but thank goodness, I don’t have to deal with that embarrassment on top of everything else.
The clip ran tonight on HBN’s bake-off coverage, and it’s gone crazy on YouTube. I’m even more popular than the girl who caught her hair on fire while toasting coconut.
“Oh, here’s a caption for you,” Lauren says from next to me on the couch. She has her computer perched on her lap, and she grins at me before she reads, “More than cookies are baking up on this year’s Christmas Cookie Bake-off. This afternoon, sparks and flour flew between guest judge, musician heartthrob Mason Knight and contestant hopeful Harper Newton. Is love in the air? We don’t know, but we’ll be yuletide cheering them on.”
Before I can comment on how corny the caption was, Brandon makes a scoffing noise. Lauren catches my eye and raises a brow in question. Sadie, looking slightly uncomfortable, looks at her hands.
I don’t have time to overthink Brandon’s response because my phone rings again for the billionth time. It’s incredible how a viral video showcasing you stammering over a “musicianheartthrob” will have friends and acquaintances crawling from the woodwork.
This time, I don’t recognize the area code, much less the number. I ignore it and pretend to go through my email.
“And this is the part where Harper fell in love,” Riley says, muting it so she can narrate—as she’s been doing the whole evening. “And this is when every female in America decided they hate Harper.”
I can’t help it—I glance at the TV because I know she’s talking about the part when Mason practically whispered in my ear. Butterflies flutter in my stomach at the memory. Living it was intense enough; watching it is almost too much.
“And this is where Harper started flirting,” Riley continues.
Growling under my breath, I look back down.
