“What am I doing?”
I’m reapplying my cherry lipstick in the rearview mirror like I’m having a very important interview. I’m literally just coming over to my boyfriend's house for some tea. And it’s not even my real boyfriend so why the heck am I doing that?
“Come on Mads,” I mutter to myself. “Just get your ass inside.”
I check one more time before I step out of the car. As I walk on the driveway towards the house, I fumble at my braid and look down at my sweater to check if I don’t look ridiculous—
“You’re actually on time.”
I jump as I look up to see Ryan leaning against the porch railing. “Don’t scare me like that.”
“Sorry I was just really surprised that you are actually on time,” he smirks. “Especially with how long you were still sitting in your car.”
Shit—was he outside already that entire time?
“Well,” I start. “I just really like dessert.”
That makes him laugh, and I glance up at him properly. He’s in a dark blue hoodie, one hand tucked lazily into the front pocket while the other rests along the rail behind him. He looks comfortable, the kind where it softens everything about a person. Which is really cute. You know where you suddenlyget the urge to scoot closer, snuggle into his side, and run your fingers through his hair. Ahem—not that I want to do that. Obviously.
He leads me inside, and the first thing that hits me is the smell. Warm vanilla. Melted butter. Sugar. Something cinnamon-y is definitely happening too.
Bailey and Mabel stand side by side at the counter, surrounded by bowls, flour dusting the surface like fresh snow. Bailey looks up first. She’s wearing a bright pink apron that readsLittle Sous-Chef in Trainingin sparkly letters.
“Maddy!”
“Hey Bailey,” I grin and point to her apron. “Nice apron. Did they finally promote you to head chef?”
Bailey flips her brown hair over her shoulder. “Obviously.”
Ryan snorts softly beside me, then reaches out and ruffles her hair.
Bailey immediately ducks, swatting at his arm. “Hey!”
He does it again anyway, dragging his knuckles over the top of her head like he’s been doing it his whole life, and she squirms, trying to escape, but he’s taller and she fails miserably.
I shake my head, smiling. The two of them are unbelievable.
Mabel laughs softly and steps around the counter to give me a quick hug.
“Hi, Mabel.”
“Hi, sweetheart,” she says warmly. “You look lovely.”
The compliment makes me straighten. “Thank you. Andwow—it smells incredible in here.”
Mabel gives me a warm smile, wipes her hands on a dish towel and looks toward Ryan. “Dessert will be ready in about fifteen minutes. Why don’t you two get the nice plates from upstairs?”
Ryan releases Bailey and glances at me. “Come on,” he says. Then, with the faintest smirk: “Babe.”
I narrow my eyes at him but follow anyway.
Upstairs, he leads me into a small side room, shelves lining the walls. My eyes land on a set of plates, white with delicate blue details, stacked neatly on the top shelf.
“Those?” I ask, pointing.
“Yeah,” Ryan says, stepping forward. “I’ll grab them. You’re probably too small.”
I stop him with a hand flat against his chest. “Excuse you. I’m five foot five, thank you very much. I can reach them.”
