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Lonan: You like it?
Me: Of course, thank you so much. This was a really big gift.
Lonan: How was your first time driving around the cities?
Me: It was good! And I found almost everything I needed at the store. Now we aren’t going to starve! Cool, huh?
Lonan: Glad we won’t starve. But if it came down to it, I already had plans to eat you first, so... ??
Me: Wow. Shameless.
Lonan: Lol
Lonan: Got a couple meetings to finish up, but should be home around 3.
Me: See you then ??
I put away the groceries as quickly as I can and get started on marinating the chicken for dinner tonight. Once that’s done, the baking begins.
While mixing ingredients, I can’t help but imagine what it would be like to live here, not just as a guest. It’s a foolish delusion, but I let myself have it. It’s a fun fantasy I can entertain while admiring the view of the Minneapolis skyline and Lake Bde Maka Ska blanketed in snow. It’s beautiful.
I’m pulling the first batch of cookies from the oven when I hear the telltale ding of the elevator. I attempt to suppress my reaction to him coming home but like Pavlov’s dogs, I salivate as soon as I hear the bell. When he emerges from the hall, I’m greeted with one of his panty-melting smiles, and the butterflies become frenzied. Maybe some handcrafted orgasms tonight will help douse the flames I feel right now.
“Oh my God, are these—”
“Snickerdoodles. They’re still hot, so be careful.”
He plucks one from the cooling rack and shoves the whole thing into his mouth.
“Fuuuck, they’re the same as before. You have no idea how much I missed these. You never forgot the recipe?”
“I asked Mom.” I smile.
“You did promise these to me when we were kids. Took you long enough to pay up,” he says with his mouth full.
“How much of that do you remember?”
He swallows. “All of it.” His smile returns. “Remember asking me to be your husband?” he teases.
“I did not.” I roll my eyes, placing some cooled cookies into a container.
“You absolutely did! We made a pact that we would live in the fort when we grew up. I was going to build all your ridiculous additions onto the tree house, and in exchange, you would bake these snickerdoodle cookies.”
“They were not ridiculous.”
“You baked the cookies. Darling, is this your proposal to me?”
His voice dropped an octave. I know we’re joking around, but I still feel it low in my belly. Very low.Just friendship, remember? Don’t complicate your arrangement already.
I laugh. “How do you remember so much?”
“You don’t forget a first kiss like that. You had some moves.”
“Pretty sure you kissed me first.” I slide three more cookies into the container.
“No way I would’ve had the guts back then.”
“You did! You know I’m right. You told me you ‘like-liked’ me, and even asked permission before you did it. You were a perfect little gentleman.” I pinch his cheek.
