Page 67 of ICED
JACKO: Got baking supplies. Can I swing by in an hour?
She replies almost immediately.
MAYA: Yep. Kitchen’s clean. Lila’s in a sugar coma from leftover pastries. Bring your bear paws.
God help me, I read it three times before I realise, she’s flirting.
When I knock, Maya’s already pulling open the door barefoot, and something about it hits me right in the ribs.
“Nice apron,” I say, nodding to the fadedStar Bakerone tied around her waist.
She smirks. “It’s Lila’s. But it was clean and I didn’t feel like wrestling mine out of the laundry pile. Get in here.”
I do, slipping off my boots by the door and setting the envelope on the counter like it’s sacred.
Maya raises an eyebrow. “What’s that?”
“That’s the envelope that tells me whether we’re doing pink or blue reveal cupcakes. Murphy said I’m not allowed to mess it up or Sophie’ll kill us both.”
“I’m already picturing her wielding a rolling pin,” she says, opening the fridge. “Want tea?”
“Only if you’re having one.”
She gives me that quiet little nod and starts the kettle, moving easily around the kitchen like she’s more relaxed than usual. The radio’s on low. There’s half a batch of chocolate sponge cooling on the wire rack, and Lila’s voice floats faintly from the living room; something about unicorns and pirates.
“I told her you were coming,” Maya says, glancing over her shoulder. “She wants to put glitter in the batter.”
“Sounds like a sound strategy.”
“Oh, totally. Nothing says ‘gender reveal’ like edible craft supplies.”
I grin, pulling out the list I scribbled after training. “So, we’re thinking filled cupcakes, right? One bite tells you everything?”
She leans over my shoulder to read the list, and suddenly her arm brushes mine, warm and close. I don’t move. I can smell the faint citrus in her shampoo.
“Coloured filling inside plain sponge?” she muses.
“Too boring.”
“What if we dye the whole cake base? Like… pastel pink or blue sponge, matching icing, filled with something soft. Cream cheese maybe?”
I nod. “Can swirl the batter before baking. Looks pretty when they bite in.”
“And we top with?”
I raise an eyebrow. “Tiny fondant bears.”
She laughs, and it’s that low, rich sound I don’t hear enough. “You really do lean into the bear thing.”
“You named me that.”
“Lila named you that.”
“Close enough.”
She’s still close when she lifts her chin, eyes playful. “Fondant bears sound cute. If you can pull it off.”
“Are you challenging me?”
