“Understood.”
“And you better have her home by midnight ...anddrive the speed limit. She’s precious cargo.”
“Absolutely.”
I hold the serious expression for a moment longer before breaking into a smile and taking another bite of the cookie. “Had I not had these amazing cookies, maybe I would’ve thrown a bigger fit, but at this point...” I pause, my eyes bouncing between the two of them. “Go for it. Have fun.”
The tension dissolves, replaced by laughter and relief. Paul accepts the tin of cookies from Genna, looking at them like they’re made of gold. “You baked these?”
“With a little help,” Genna admits, glancing at Cheyenne.
“A lot of help,” Cheyenne corrects, speaking for the first time. Her voice does that thing to my insides again, a warm flutter I’m not used to.
Two minutes later, Genna and Paul are darting off down the hallway, barely muttering some version of goodbye on their way out.
It leaves me standing there alone with Cheyenne, who shakes her head.
“I don’t know why they worked themselves up about it so much,” she comments, reaching into the Tupperware I’m holding and grabbing one of the cookies. “It’s just a date.”
“Yeah,” I grunt, their laughter echoing down the hallway. “Listen to how excited they sound ... I’m not about to be the one who gets in the middle of that.”
“Look at you,” Chey snorts before taking a bite. “So admirably understanding.”
“Yeah, I know.” My eyes linger on the way she chews the cookie, her soft lips pressed together, and her hand catching any crumbs.
Why is it so adorable?
She then pulls out her phone, and I notice her scrolling to a rideshare app, obviously ordering a ride back home.
“I can take you,” I say, before even realizing what I’m offering. “I don’t mind.”
“Um, okay...” Cheyenne’s voice trails off. “Are you sure? I don’t want to mess up any afterparty plans you might have.”
“Nah, I’m not doing anything tonight.” I give her a grin. “In fact, do you wanna go do something? Maybe we could go ice skating? I mean, you brought cookies, so the least I can do is offer something in return.”
“How about we grab a hot chocolate instead? I’m not great at skating.”
I smile down at her, my entire chest feeling weird and warm. “Okay. That’s fine. So long as I get to keep those cookies.”
She giggles and then lets out a light, airy sigh. “I’m okay with that.”
“You sure? Even though they’re the best cookies I’ve ever had? That’s quite a loss.”
Chey’s warm, hazel eyes meet mine. “Of course. I made them for you.”
My heart feels like it could explode in my chest.
She made them for me.
“Don’t get a big head,” she adds, as if she can read my mind. “I might’ve mixed up the salt with the sugar in a couple of them.” She smirks.
I gasp in mock offense. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“I guess you’ll just have to find out. It’ll be like Russian Roulette, cookie edition.”
“I’m willing to take my chances.” I chuckle, enjoying the playful banter with Cheyenne. She closes the lid on the Tupperware, her laughter filling the hallway as we make our way toward the exit.
And suddenly, my heart is fluttering with a strange mix of excitement and nerves at the thought of spending more time with her.
