“Hey!” Holding my arms up, I twist to find a big flour handprint on my black workout shorts. “I’m so getting you back for that.”
“Can’t be helped. You’ve got these hot little booty shorts on.”
“You have no self restraint. Just a one-track mind.”
With a chuckle, Connor jumps out of reach when I swipe at him with the flour from the bowl by my rolling station. I hunt him around the island and he flashes me a sneaky look as I make my move, trapping me in his arms before I can dump flour down his shirt.
“Got you,” he murmurs before kissing me.
I shift around in his arms to kiss him properly, our tongues sliding together. He kisses the curve of my smile, unsuspecting until I smash flour in his hair.
“What the—” Connor’s eyes are wide in shock as I choke on my victorious laughter. “Okay, Kennedy. I see how it is.”
“Wait—babe, don’t!” I retreat before he can retaliate against me with the jar of Nutella, my hands raised in surrender.
He narrows his eyes, but concedes. “Okay, truce. But I get another kiss.”
After Connor claims his bounty with another kiss that leaves me breathless, he lets me return to baking.
“You really like this stuff,” he says, leaning against the sink as I put another tray of cookies in the oven. “You’re good at it, too.”
I toss a quick smile over my shoulder, flushed from his praise. “Thanks. I’ve always loved it. Before I could even reach the counter. When I was little, my grandma used to pull up a chair so I could watch and help while she taught me her recipes.” I nod to the notebook I have on the other side of the island. “That one has a lot of her old ones in it. I’ve tweaked some over the years. I’m always tinkering with them.”
His mouth quirks up at the corner as I tell my story. “Is that what you’re always carrying around? I swear I see you with a different notebook every day.”
“Yeah. I’ve probably filled hundreds of them by now. Mom used to get so annoyed when we’d be out grocery shopping or whatever and I’d beg for a new notebook I saw.” I shake my head. “But I have enough to open my own bakery someday. It’s my dream. Feed the world with happiness. And sugar.”
“Yeah? That’s cool. You’ll do amazing at it. Does your grandma approve of your improvements to her recipes?”
A pang pierces my heart. “She did, but she’s passed. Right before freshman year.”
“Oh. I’m sorry, baby.” Connor pops out of his relaxed position and wraps me in a warm hug. “Come here.”
“I’m okay. I still miss her, though. We’ve always shared a love of baking and it just hits me some days that even if I make her signature creamy puff pastry recipe, it still won’t be her love going into it, you know?”
He hums and strokes my back in comforting circles.
“What about you?” I tip my head back to meet his gaze. “What do you think you want to do with your life?”
His head cocks to the side. “Something with computers. I like working with them and I’m pretty good. I guess it quiets my head the same way baking does for you.”
“Computers?” My nose crinkles with my teasing grin. “You know, I think that qualifies you as a nerd. I seem to remember you calling me that once or twice.”
Connor taps my nose. “Takes one to know one.”
“Sure,” I drawl. “There’s no way mister popular soccer captain isn’t harboring self-loathing going around calling his sweet neighbor a nerd. Not at all.”
“Savage little thing, aren’t you?” He nips at my neck in revenge, torturing the sensitive pulse point until I’m putty in his arms.
The timer on my phone goes off and I leave his embrace to take out the final batch of cookies. A tendril of warm pride blossoms in my chest as I survey the room. Every surface in the kitchen is covered in cookies and the traces of our midnight baking. It felt amazing to have him here, even if he snuck in. I can’t remember what nasty thought drove me out of bed, my mood soaring high after spending time with my boyfriend doing my favorite thing in the world.
Connor studies me as he leans his hip against the counter. His playful demeanor has shifted to something more serious. “Why don’t you ever let anyone see you, Thea?”
The question takes me by surprise and slices into my heart, digging at one of my oldest wounds. Invisible. “What do you mean?”
“You’re always so quiet, but you have all these opinions about everything.” He rubs his jaw and shrugs. “And you’ve shown me more of yourself, even before you knew it was me.”
Heat floods my face. I was so desperate to keep my sputtering flame with Wyatt alive, I really did dive in head first to it when I got a response.
As I’m struggling to respond, Connor adds in a soft voice, “You’re brave, so why do you hide it?”
My stomach bottoms out. I take a second to gather my thoughts, wiping my hands clean on a dish towel.
“Well, I’m brave in my own ways. To me, bravery is about showing myself I can do something I’m afraid of. Like standing up for someone when no one else will.” My mind flashes to Blair Davis. “It’s not about showing off or making myself look good. I don’t have to be in front of a crowd to consider myself brave. I don’t really care what anyone else thinks, I just answer to myself.”
Connor stares at me for a beat, then he huffs out a laugh. “Don’t ever let anyone tell you you’re not amazing, because you are.”
“I don’t. I’ve told you about a hundred times I didn’t care what you thought, didn’t I?”
My pleased grin stretches when he snorts and mutters to the dog. “You believe this? Boyfriend status and I still get attitude.”
Constantine doesn’t answer, only continues to snore, deep in sleep after dozing off an hour ago. I bustle around the kitchen, packing the cooled cookies into containers to sort through them for French club. Once I’m done, I gape at the time.
“Wow, it’s late. Almost three.”
Connor hums, sliding his arms around my waist. “The perfect time for mischief.”
“Or sleep.” I tip my head back and pucker my lips. He gives me a quick peck, then comes back for more, deepening the kiss. I mumble against his lips, “Need. Sleep.”
“Need. You,” Connor shoots back, palming my ass. “Come with me. We’ll sleep out in the pool house. I don’t want to go to bed without you.”
It’s tempting. I’d love to sleep with his warm arms locked around me and his lips nestled against my skin. Mom would kill me, though. She knocks every morning if I’m not up first, and then she barges in my room anyway.
“I want to, but we can’t.”
“Come on, baby. I want to fall asleep with you and wake up the same way.” He keeps kissing me until I’m dizzy. “Then we’ll skip school tomorrow. We’ll sleep in, get coffee and donuts, and have an adventure. Run away with me. Sound good?”
I hum, brushing our lips together, entranced by the fantasy of a dreamy date day.
Then the second set of lights flick on and a sharp gasp cuts through my happiness. “What. Is. Going. On. In. Here?”