Page 60 of My Irresistible Enemy

I was surprised to find I actually cared. Maybe it was just leftover guilt from when he’d snapped at me earlier. But it was still weird. I wasn’t used to worrying about how Aiden felt.

He didn’t answer, just shrugged and took a long sip of his sangria. I took a swallow of my punch. It really was disgustingly sweet, but maybe it would calm him down if I seemed more grateful.

“Well, thanks for the drink. I appreciate it,” I said, taking another sip. Might as well shoot sugar straight into my veins through an IV. I felt a little giddy from the sweetness.

“We should talk about happy things,” Aiden said abruptly. “We need to smile for the cameras, instead of talking about all that intense stuff.”

“Okay.” I wasn’t sure we still needed to be talking at all. We’d spent most of the evening together at this point. But oddly, I didn’t feel the urge to get up and leave like I usually did.

Maybe it was the sugar, or maybe it was just the fact that this bench was the only quiet part of the entire harbor, but that uncomfortable pins and needles feeling I usually got around him had mellowed into something softer. There was still heat between us, but I didn’t feel quite so much like it was about to blow up in my face.

Or maybe I just didn’t want to have to think about my mom’s texts right now.

“Did you have a topic in mind?” I asked when Aiden lapsed into silence. His eyebrows were still drawn down, and he was watching the crowd warily.

He tossed me a wry smile. “What’s your favorite baked good?”

“Oh, come on,” I protested. “No fair. You don’t get to say it’s a dumb question earlier and then use it now.”

“I never claimed to be consistent,” he said airily.

That was certainly true.

“Mal used to make these cookies for the restaurant,” I said after a moment. “To go with after-dinner coffees and espresso. They seemed so simple. Just this chocolate dough that you make, roll up, and then slice. But when you bake them? He says it’s all about the butter you use, but I swear, he must add something special in there because it’s like heaven in your mouth.”

Aiden shot me an incredulous look. “Now you’re just baiting me.”

“Baiting you?”

“Heaven in your mouth? Really? He added a special ingredient? You’re practically begging me to joke about you sucking him off.”

I was grateful to the twilight for hiding my flush, but I took another sip of punch before answering anyway.

“I meant sea salt or something, when I said extra ingredient. Not cum.”

“Well, you should specify next time.”

“Noted.” I rolled my eyes. “Anyway. What’s yours?”

Aiden grinned. “My special ingredient?”

“Your favorite baked good.”

“Ugh, that’s much less fun. I don’t know. Cake, I guess.”

“What kind of cake?”

“Any kind?” He shrugged. “I’m not too picky.”

“That’s literally the point of this question.” I turned towards him. “Picking a favorite meanspickingsomething.”

Another shrug. “I guess I’m just not that particular.”

“I find that impossible to believe. You seem like the kind of person who has opinions about everything.”

“Idohave opinions about everything. But when it comes to baked goods, I’m an equal opportunity eater.”

“Seriously? You don’t have a single favorite baked good? Nothing a family member used to make for you? No dessert you always split with a friend at your favorite restaurant?”

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