Page 61 of ICED
“Only for people who deserve them,” I say, holding up the Tupperware.
She arches a brow. “Flattery and banana muffins? Dangerous combination.”
I step behind the counter before she can stop me and set the container down. Lila’s sitting on a stool near the back, colouring with pink-stained fingers.
“Hi, Bear!” she chirps, grinning.
“Hey, Jellybean.” I ruffle her hair. “You hungry?”
She nods like a bobblehead. Maya gives me a mock stern look. “You’re going to spoil her.”
“Good,” I say, peeling back the lid and offering the container like its sacred treasure. “Spoiling is kind of my thing.”
Maya laughs, that low, rich sound that makes my chest go soft. “Is it? I thought baking was your thing.”
“Multi-talented,” I say. “Want to see how good I am at cleaning counters?”
“You’re ridiculous,” she mutters, but her eyes are warm.
We move around each other easily. I wipe flour, she pipes icing. Lila chatters about rainbows and unicorns and how I made her not fall yesterday. I glance at Maya when she says that. She’s not smiling, but she’s not stiff either.
After a while, Maya drops onto the stool next to me, brushing a loose strand of hair out of her face. “Thanks for coming by.”
“I like it here,” I say simply. “Feels good.”
She watches me. Not guarded. Just thoughtful.
“Would it be weird,” I add, “if I said I missed you this morning?”
Her mouth quirks. “A little.”
“But still flattering?”
“Possibly.”
We’re quiet for a second. Then she leans forward and nudges the muffins toward me. “You’re going to make me fat.”
“I doubt that. You’ve got the metabolism of a hummingbird.”
Maya rolls her eyes, but her cheeks flush, and I decide I’d give up every puck I’ve ever hit just to see that pink there again.
I reach over slowly, brushing a smudge of icing from the tip of her nose. “You missed a spot.”
“Oh?” Her breath catches slightly, but she doesn’t pull away.
I swipe the icing away gently with my thumb, then let it linger, just for a moment, before dropping my hand to hers on the counter. “I’m partial to messy bakers.”
She swallows, and I can see her thinking, processing, assessing, trying not to bolt.
“You’re very sure of yourself today,” she murmurs.
“Only because you’re smiling.”
That gets me a real one. A little crooked, all mischief. “That so?”
“Mhm.” I lean in, tilting my head just enough. “Might try my luck, if that’s alright.”
She doesn’t stop me. In fact, she tilts up first, slightly, and I meet her halfway.
