Conan: But I remembered you said you enjoy it.
Mackie: I do. Thank you. I think I might try using my new kitchen stuff tonight after I’ve eaten. How’s work going?
Conan: Long and tiring. There is a lot to edit, and my shoulders are killing me.
A little emoji pops up from him.
Mackie: Make sure to take breaks and stretch your body. You’re old, remember? ;)
Conan: Naughty, just because you’re a baby.
Mackie: Exactly. Okay, I’ll let you get back to work. Talk in a bit.
I wait in case he sends anything else before putting my phone down and focusing on my screen, but then I remember what he said, and despite my usual methods of working, I stand and walk around my office. I stretch and drink some water before I return to work.
It’s dark by the time my phone vibrates again, and I scramble to pick it up, nearly dropping it in the process.
There’s no text, just an image, and my eyes widen as I open it. He’s in a frilly apron we picked up and holding a plate of chunky chocolate chip cookies that look incredible. There’s flour on his cheek, and his hair is tied up on top of his head. He’s smiling widely, and I stare at the picture far longer than I should before saving it.
Conan: They look incredible. I want to taste.
Mackie: Me or the cookies?
I curl my lips in to hold back a nervous chuckle as I open the picture again, running my eyes over his face. Something long dead returns to life in me, brought by him—happiness, desire, and envy. I’ve been feeling it since I met him. It’s confusing and consuming, but I’m obsessed with feeling more.
Conan: Both.
I admit it freely, knowing it’s true. Guilt assaults me for a moment before I push it away. I won’t let anything ruin this.
I take a deep breath and gather my courage, feeling like a nervous teen.
Conan: Next time, let’s bake together.
Mackie: It’s a date.
I stare at those three words for what feels like hours, my heart hammering in my chest. I want it. I want it to be a date. I never went into this with the idea of dating Mackie, I just wanted to repay my debt, yet everything is getting messy. I worry that when he finds out, he will push me away and take all the sunlight with him again.
THIRTEEN
Nibbling on a cookie, I stare at my phone and the listings. I flick between the top two, reading the different qualities and reviews, wanting to make sure it’s good before I buy it.
“Why are you looking at portable neck and shoulder massagers?” Skylar scoffs, startling me into dropping my cookie as he throws himself into the chair next to me. “Well? Are you in pain? Need me to tell Noah and get the muscle dude out here?”
“You mean the sports therapist?” I scoff. “No, I’m fine.” I lock my phone and shove the cookie into my mouth as he tilts his head and waits for an answer.
He sighs when he realizes I’m not going to respond and reaches for the plate, grabbing two treats and shoving them in his mouth. I’m glad I already saved some for Conan, which reminds me . . . I check my phone, but Evan hasn’t responded with his office address yet, so I lean back in my chair, looking over the baked goods covering the table.
I also ended up baking some cakes, and they sit on the table to my left, waiting for the ravenous meatheads here I call friends to rip them apart.
I sense Noah before he speaks. My body is always attuned to his, and I feel him in every room. He reaches past me, grabbing a cookie,and I look up at him. He’s busy chewing, his beautiful jaw working, but the bags under his eyes worry me. His hair is messy, like it always is when he’s stressed since he tugs at it, and his tank is covered in oil. He’s probably been working on the cars again, another sign he’s stressed.
“These are amazing.” His dark eyes land on me, locking me in place. It doesn’t matter how old I get or how much I’ve grown, I always feel so young and helpless when Noah looks at me, desperate for his praise and attention. “You haven’t baked for us in ages. How did you know I needed something sweet?” he teases.
“Oh, uh, I baked them for Conan since he bought me supplies,” I start before trailing off, blinking as Noah drops the cookie to the plate with a glare. “It isn’t good?” I ask quietly.
“They are fine.” He turns and stomps away, leaving me staring after him. His shoulders are tight. He looks so stressed today, I wonder what I could do to help.
“Ignore him, they are amazing. He’s just being grumpy,” Skylar says, drawing my gaze back to him.
