“Honestly,” she mutters. “I give an inch. One single little inch, and you take a damn mile.”
“Shortcake, I’ll give you all the inches you want.”
Sienna’s cheeks flare scarlet as we reach them. She half widens her eyes, half glares at Jax before she turns to us.
“I made cookies,” she says through gritted teeth. “You want some?”
“She made a lot of cookies,” Jax interjects. “Like four batches.”
“I like to bake when I’m stressed.”
“Do you feel okay?” Tristan asks, his mouth turning down as he looks at Jax. “Stop bothering her.”
Sienna raises her eyebrows. “He’s not bothering me. Much. You want these, or not?”
It feels like another small step, and I’ll take every bit of movement I can. Eagerly, I step up and take a cookie from the tray, looking up to meet her eyes. “Thank you.”
She bites her lip as Gray and Tristan grab one too, and we all bite into it.
It takes me a second or two, the first delicious burst of vanilla in my mouth rapidly changing to a… burning?
My choke closely follows Gray’s, and my eyes start to water as I stare down at the cookie.
What in hell’s name is in this?
I need water. Liquid. Anything.
But I don’t want to hurt her feelings, so I swallow down the burn and force a smile through gritted teeth. “These are… something.”
She starts to look suspicious when Gray hides his gag in his fist. “What?” she demands. Her eyes dart between us. “You don’t like them?”
I sense that we’re walking a very, very thin line with our Soul Bonded.
I swivel to Tristan, and I canseehis eyes streaming. But he takes another bite, chewing it like it’s the best damn thing he’s ever tasted. “Delicious.”
He doesn’t bat a fucking eyelid, even as his face turns bright red.
Sienna looks at me before her eyes drop down to the tray, and I catch a flash of hurt on her face.
Oh, no. No, no, no.
I shove the rest of the cookie into my mouth and brace myself.
“Mmmm. ‘S good.” I nod frantically.
Oh fuck. I can’t swallow. It feels like my throat is on fire.
Gray whacks me between the shoulders as I bend over, wheezing as the cookie crumbs get caught in my throat.
“What the hell?” Sienna mutters. “They can’t be that bad.”
Tristan moves past me as I wheeze. “They’re perfect, Bonded. Can I have another one?”
What the fuck? Is his throat made of fucking titanium?
I’m saved from my humiliation by a loud burst of laughter from the doorway. Jessalyn is leaning against it with a smirk.
“How’re those cookies, Cobutts?”
