It smells amazing, like chocolate and sugar with a hint of vanilla on top. The shop is crowded, probably partially because of the sale, and after someone accidentally bumps me on their way out, Aric pulls me closer, tucking me in beside him so no one can run me over in their rush to get to the cookie counter.
And beside him, with his woodsy smell washing over me, I feel... safe. Warm. Maybe even cared for. No man has ever made me feel that way.Ever.
I glance up at Aric, but he’s studying the menu.
“What are you gonna get?” he asks.
But I’ve been too busy looking at Aric to even glance at the menu.
I pull my gaze away from him and direct it to the big handwritten menu hanging behind the front counter. Everything sounds amazing: gingersnaps, fig bars, the classic chocolate chip. Then I read the next item on the list, and it makes me pause.Blueberry-vanilla cookie bars with walnuts.
Immediately, I recall the last thing Professor Silvermoon said to me before I left her classroom, and I know betterthan to disregard something my divination professor deems important enough to say.
“I’m going to try the blueberry vanilla,” I say.
“Ooh, I was thinking about that. If I get two chocolate chips, will you share yours with me?”
Feeling playful, I arch a brow and say, “Make it four, and you have a deal.”
Aric orderssixchocolate-chip cookies, and I order two of the blueberry-vanilla cookie bars. Before I can pull out my eldertokens, he pays for the entire order.
“Thank you,” I tell him as he lifts the tray laden with our sweets.
“Of course. You’ve done so much for me. Buying cookies is the least I can do.” He flashes me a smile, then straightens to look around the shop. “It’s packed in here. You wanna sit outside?”
I’m once again grateful for the nice weather as we step outside and walk around the back of the cookie shop, where a lovely garden hosts a few picnic tables and benches. A group of children is just leaving, and we swoop in and take the table they just vacated.
“Success!” Aric says, thumping the cookie tray down onto the table. “I think it was meant to be, Brains.”
I giggle as I take a seat.
“Do you mind that nickname?” he asks while sitting across from me. “Sorry, I guess I never asked.”
I shake my head, then push my glasses back up the bridge of my nose after they slide down. “Not at all. I think it’s nice.”
Aric’s smile is quick and easy. He pulls out two cookies and both cookie bars. “Which do you wanna try first?”
“Hmm.” I eye the baked treats. They both look so good. “I’m starting with a chocolate chip. Something traditional. Then I can still be excited for the blueberry.”
Aric nods. “I like the way you think. Chocolate chip it is.”
He hands me a cookie, then takes a bite.
“Good goddess,” Aric moans, looking down at the cookie like it might be enchanted. “Chocolate chip willneverget old.”
I take a bite, and the cookie is perfectly crunchy on the outside and gooey on the inside—a difficult balance to achieve. But it’s missing a little something. It could use a touch less salt and just a bit more vanilla.
“What do you think?” he asks.
I consider lying, then opt for the truth. “It’s amazing, but... I think my mom can do better.”
His green skin loses some of its color. “Shit. I forgot your mom owns the Wandering Cup.” He looks down at the cookie like he’s horrified at himself. “Am I a traitor?”
I laugh out loud, then shake my head and hurriedly say, “Not at all! Mama and I always visit other cafés and bakeries. It’s nice to support one another.”
“And scope out the competition?” Aric adds quietly, one of his brows arching in the corner.
My lips edge into a sideways smile. “Yeah, that too.”
