Page 23 of The Christmas Cookie Crush

I thought I knew what the situation called for, but now I don’t think I know at all.

“Look,” he starts, holding a hand up, palm out, like he’s trying to stop me from speaking or leaving or something, “I just wanted to apologize. Obviously the things I did when we were kids had more of an impact than I realized at the time. I—” His mouth hangs open for a beat, but then he snaps it shut and shakes hishead. “I was a dumb kid, I clearly hurt you, and for that, I’m sincerely sorry.” He lets out a harsh breath. “Can we …” He runs his hand through his hair, and I bite back a smile at the gesture, because now his hair doesn’t look quite so neat and tidy, and I like it a lot. “Can we start over? Pretend we didn’t know each other as kids, that we’re both just here to help our families with ChristmasFest and get to know each other as the people we are now?”

Crossing my arms, I pull my mouth to the side, my eyes narrowing as I consider his proposal. “I dunno, Austin.”

He snorts, stuffing his hand back in his pocket. “Seriously? Do you know how long I spent on those cookies?”

I shake my head, my face relaxing, though I don’t uncross my arms. Not yet. “No, actually. I don’t. A long time, I take it?”

Another snort. “That’s putting it mildly.”

“Why?” It’s the question I’ve been dying to ask since he presented me with the box. At first I thought the answer was potentially obvious—to prank me. That would make sense. But when it became clear that wasn’t happening … I just don’t know what to think. And I have to know. Why?

He shrugs. “Like I said, I want to be able to start over. But it doesn’t seem like that’s possible. So I wanted to do something to show I’m serious. When you said how much you missed those cookies, it seemed like the thing to do. Grampy can’t make them right now. And I don’t—” He clamps his mouth shut again and shakes his head. “Anyway, I thought you’d like them. I wanted to do something nice to make up for being a little shit as a kid.”

All I can do is blink at him because … I don’t know what I was expecting, but that wasn’t it. “You want to start over?”

He nods once. Firm. Emphatic. “God, yes.”

I blink at him some more. I don’t even know what to think about that. But also, he’s actually been pretty nice so far? I mean, he spent who knows how long making these cookies … And I have to admit, if I weren’t still butthurt over things that happened when we were kids, the Warheads thing would’ve been pretty funny.

Sucking in a deep breath, I nod slowly. “Okay,” I say at last. “We can start over.”

He lets out a sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxing, a smile tugging at his lips. “Really? God, that’s fantastic.”

I laugh, more out of surprise than anything. “Is it? You might live to regret that.”

He chuckles too and takes a half step closer. “I’ll take my chances.”

“Aren’t you brave,” I murmur.

That provokes another chuckle, and he shakes his head. “Not particularly. Nearly every choice I’ve made has been safe. Honestly, coming here seems like the most daring thing I’ve done in a long time.”

One of my eyebrows arches up in question. “Here to Arcadian Falls?”

He shakes his head. “No, here to your house with a box full of cookies.”

My lips part, and I want to say something, but I don’t know what. How am I supposed to respond to that?

He retreats that half step, pushing his hand through his hair and giving me a disarming smile. “I mean, the way you’ve acted every other time I’ve tried to give you something, coming to your home turf with your brothers here, there’s a fair chance I could’ve gotten my balls handed back to me in a sack.”

Laughing, I shake my head. “You think Dylan’d help cut your balls off?”

He screws up his face, then gives an exaggerated shrug. “I mean, I’d hope years of friendship would meansomethingto him. But it’s been a long time. And if you told him I’m harassing you …” Another shrug, this one more normal. “Plus, there’s Ty. He always scared the shit out of me.”

I grin. “Trust me, his bark’s worse than his bite.”

“Good to know.” His hands go back in his pockets, and he looks at his feet like he’s nervous again for some reason. Then he clears his throat. “I know you’re busy with ChristmasFest, and I am too, but I’d love it if I could take you out sometime. Like coffee? Or dinner?”

I rock back on my heels. “You mean like a date?”

He tilts his head to the side and gives me a lopsided smile. “Yes?”

“You don’t sound so sure about that.” But I’m smiling. I can’t help it.

“Yes. A date. Sooner is better, but I can wait until after Christmas if that’s easier.”

I suck in a breath, thinking over my schedule. “I’m working most of next week. But we could do something after work? A late dinner or a drink? Something low-key is fine with me. But I’malways starving by the end of the day, so something with food is perfect.”

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