Page 33 of Brazen Criminals

Walker chuckles. He loads up a second pan with more balls of dough. I take a spoon and scoop a bit more batter for myself from the mixing bowl. “You met Clara’s ex, right? What was he like?” he asks.

I think about it. “He was cold. Arrogant and cold.”

“She seems better today, doesn’t she?” he asks.

“Yeah. She’s calmer. I made her laugh just now—she snorts.”

He finishes the second batch with a chuckle. “Good.”

“To the snorting? Because while it was kind of cute, it was also, well, a snort.”

He pushes me away from the oven. “To her feeling better, you idiot.”

I scoop out the last of the dough from the bowl and do a quick wash. I figure it’s a good thank you for him letting me steal the dough. He pulls down the cooling racks, setting them up just in time for the timer. The first cookie he puts on the rack I snatch, before tossing it onto the island with an “Ow ow ow! Too hot!”

“Serves you right,” he says, settling the rest onto the rack. I snag the cookie from the counter, tossing it from hand to hand as I back through the door into the living room. Clara is curled in the couch’s corner, while Emma is in RJ’s chair. “Cookies are coming out of the oven,” I say, wafting the hot cookie in front of the ladies’ noses.

I pop the cookie in my mouth, and while it burns, it is still amazing. I’ve missed these cookies. My life isn’t complete without these cookies. “Delicious,” I mumble around the gooey goodness. Emma raises her eyebrows at me while Clara giggles. “I’ll go get a plate,” she says, pushing up from her corner.

“Oh! Can you bring the popcorn too? The cookies distracted me,” I call after her.

I hear the tinkling of her laughter as she leaves the room.

“Hi,” I say to Emma.

“Hey,” she says, pulling her pink hair over her shoulder and braiding it without looking. “You guys aren’t serial killers or anything, right?”

“Last time I checked, I was good,” I say.

She tilts her head as she scrutinizes me. “You guys seem nice. I know you just met Clara, but this is tough for her. She literally had a five-year plan. And a ten-year plan. And now all her plans are just gone. I’m so ticked at Bryce right now I could fucking, I don’t know, kick him. Really hard. With steel-toed boots.” She finishes her braid, pulls it out and starts again. “You were the one who got her out of there, right?”

“Yup.”

“What did you think of Bryce? The two of them seemed so perfect, and now, well, I’m not sure if I was oblivious, or if it’s just that Clara is fabulous, and it somehow made Bryce look better when he was with her?” Emma asks.

Cackling and a snort filter out from the kitchen. Walker’s right, it is good that she’s feeling better. “I don’t know either of them, but Clara seems awesome, and Bryce seemed like an ice sculpture, so…” I shrug.

Emma chuckles. “I guess I just thought this would be a ‘cry with ice cream’ kind of night, not a ‘laugh with cookies’ kind of night.”

Clara comes back with a plate of cookies, Walker behind her with the popcorn. “These cookies are good enough to make you cry, trust me,” I say, grabbing another one before Clara sets down the plate.

I stole the corner of the couch so I could hear Emma, so I pat next to me, hoping. Clara tucks a bit of hair behind her ear, tugs on her shirt, then sits perfectly straight beside me. Walker sits on the other side of her, both of us not risking sitting in Trips’ chair. He said he wouldn’t join us, but just in case, well, it’s not worth the fight.

The girls decide onOcean’s Eleven. Walker and I share a glance, challenging each other to hold our tongues. A few incredulous snickers sneak out, but otherwise, the only disruptions are the crunch of popcorn and little murmurs of appreciation whenever someone takes a bite of a cookie. Slowly, Clara relaxes back onto the couch, her hair falling across my shoulder. I take a chance, rolling the cool strands between my fingers as we watch, twisting small chunks and folding them in half, strange little cinnamon rolls collecting on one side of her head. It feels nice, soothing, like a different type of meditation, where the twists in my gut are helping me focus. It feels a lot like a successful lift, and the last dregs of my anxious energy leave me in a puff. I sit back and enjoy.

Chapter 18

Clara

Abouthalfwaythroughthemovie, there’s a soft tug on my hair. Jansen has spiraled a curl around one finger, twisting it tight before folding it over. I almost ask him to stop, but he doesn’t seem to notice he’s doing it. He’s still watching the screen, focused on the story, with this small smile on his lips. It’s like his hands just need to keep busy so his mind can relax. Something that feels like affection flutters in my chest as I turn back to the movie.

Not too long after that, Walker stretches, and his arm ends up behind me on the cushion. I sprawled a bit once I realized no one minds if I take up too much space on the couch. Now I’m slouched down like a comfy ogre—it’s a nice break from watching a movie with Bryce. With Bryce, there were proper ways to sit on a couch. Sitting cross-legged in the middle of the couch is practically heaven.

I haven’t told Emma yet, but Bryce started calling and texting today around four. I’ve ignored all his messages, but I don’t think I’m ready to block him yet. I left my phone in my room because I’m sick of seeing the flash and buzz of another missed message. Tonight is for friends and movies, and I plan on thoroughly enjoying it.

Sadly, my early morning and sleepless night is catching up to me. As I slump down on the couch, Walker’s hand brushes against my shoulder. I freeze, giving him a chance to move it, but he must not notice, because it stays. Jansen moves more of my hair over to fiddle with, while Walker’s thumb draws slow circles on my bicep, inching up toward Jansen’s pile of twists. I peek at him, but just like Jansen, he’s totally engrossed in the movie.

I need to move. This is too much, too soon, and I really don’t think I’m ready for anything, even hair twists and an arm around the shoulder. I jump off the couch and hurry toward the kitchen. “I’m thirsty. Would anyone like anything?”

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