Page 47 of A Very Merry Enemy
The crispy chocolate chip exterior gives way to the rich, gooey fudge center. It’s perfect.
“Holy shit,” I say around the bite. The texture is crispy and soft, a delicious combination.
“Are they good?”
I hold out the other half. “Try it for yourself.”
He takes it from me, our fingers brushing for just a second longer than necessary. He bites into it, and I watch his expression change.
“Damn,” he mutters.
“Right?”
“This tastes incredible.” He looks at me, tilting his head. “How did you know to do that?”
“Instinct. Years of training. Being better than you.” I grin. “Take your pick.”
“All of the above, apparently.” He pours us both another drink. “We’re actually going to win this thing.”
“You sound surprised.”
“I’m not. You’re annoyingly good at everything you do.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“It’s a fact.” He leans against the counter, those tattooed arms on full display. There’s an edge to his voice, but it’s not entirely hostile. It’s something else.
“For someone who claims he can’t bake with measuring cups, you did a good job. Great dough.”
“I used to bake a lot with this girl I knew. She taught me all the basics,” he says.
“Yeah?” I ask, thinking about old times. “What happened to her?”
“She disappeared.” His eyes meet mine, and my face heats.
I don’t want to get hung up on that, so don’t respond.
We work in silence as we clean up our mess, but it’s less tense now. The whiskey loosens up both of us.
“Remember when we made those gingerbread cookies that got us detention?” I ask.
“The dick cookies? Yeah, Mawmaw still brings that up sometimes.” He smiles. “Six inchers. Can’t believe you even added?—”
“Don’t finish that sentence.”
“—veins.”
I’m laughing. “They tasted great, though.”
“It was the best week of detention ever,” he says. “We got to fuck off the entire week.”
“Remember how you used to draw tiny dicks randomly in my notebooks?”
“Payback.” He’s laughing now, and I forgot what his real laugh sounds like. Not the polite chuckle, but the genuine one that makes his eyes crinkle. It feels like we’re just two old friends reminiscing. If only…
The laughter fades, and I realize we’re standing close. Really close.
His eyes drop to my mouth, then back up.
