“Talk to you soon, Stanton.” And he hangs up on me.
I walk back into the room to find Bailey in the same position she was yesterday. Banging around in the bathroom with a toothbrush in her mouth.
“Mornin,” I say, giving her a charming grin. She really is a sight in the morning. Makes my chest warm and ache, all at once.
“Wh’uhn guh?” she mumbles.
“Huh?”
She rolls her eyes and holds up a finger, then hops into the bathroom. I hear the water run, then she comes back a second later without her toothbrush.
“Where did you go? This morning and yesterday, you were gone when I woke up.” She eyes me suspiciously, and my face splits into an amused grin.
“Not used to being the one left, are you, Barnes?”
She rolls her eyes again. “Fine, forget I asked. I don’t care what you do.” She turns her back on me to dip back into the bathroom. Infuriating woman.
“I went to the hotel gym,” I call out, and she pops her head back out of the bathroom, her nose all scrunched up like she smells something rancid.
“Why?”
I walk toward her and lean back on the wall across from the bathroom.
“One of the conditions Coach gave me to allow me to skip out on training to come here.” She hums, and I watch as she brushes out her hair and starts pulling it back into a bun. “I have to do his preapproved workouts and film them every day, then send them to him. Since we never know what time we’ll be done at the convention center, it’s easier to get up at five and do them in the morning.”
She’s lining her eyes with eyeliner, one eye closed and mouth half-open. When she finishes one eye, she looks over at me. “Ew. That’s gross.”
I chuckle. “It’s part of being the best, Bailey. I didn’t get to be the best by sitting on my ass.” I sound like my dad, but it’s true.
She’s moved on to her eyelashes now, and I watch mesmerized as she swipes a brush over both eyes. Her lashes are already thick and full and the blackest of black, but when she puts this stuff on, her amber eyes glow. It’s almost paranormal, how hypnotizing they become. The first time I saw her, even under the fluorescents of the Quick Stop, her eyes grabbed my attention, and I couldn’t let go.
It’s why I followed her into aisle six like a stalker.
Why I listened to the muffled sounds of Fall Out Boy streaming from her earbuds as she mentally deliberated over the items on the shelf.
Why I made the split-second decision to grab for the vanilla just before she did.
It was those damn amber eyes first.
Then the way she strutted when she walked. Like she was fearless.
And then the bored, mysterious, almost haunted look on her face.
I had to know her.
“Well, Golden Boy, let’s hope you bring some of that champion energy into the kitchen today, because we need this W.”
“You talkin’ sports to me, Barnes?”
“Whatever gets through to your dense athlete brain, Stanton.” She tries to hide her smile as she puts on her jacket, but I see it. “Coffee first?”
“Coffee first.”
The PAs wereable to get mawa for us, but Bailey made the executive decision to make our own. She says it will make our final product more impressive, and I don’t disagree. She also chooses to add rose water to the sugar syrup, something she read about and practiced last night, and the end result is phenomenal.
By the time we’ve rolled the Chum Chum in the coconut and stuffed them with our homemade mawa, they look amazing. After we top them with the diced cherries, they look even better. Even as perfectly executed as our recipe is, I still am floored when they name our Chum Chum the winner of the day’s task.
As soon as the cameras are off, our arms are around one another. I don’t even know who initiated it; all I know is this hug is now in my top five hugs of all time.
“Oh my god, we did it.” She smiles up at me, and I can almost see her body shake with excitement. It’s contagious.
“We should celebrate and talk strategy for Friday.”
“Right. Yes. Yes, we should. Just because we won today doesn’t mean we can slack now. Chicago is for Lovers is such a weird theme.”
“I was expecting something more festive. Christmassy. Not so—”
“Romantic?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Sorry, Butch. You’re gonna have to channel your inner lover for this one. Table the bat-swinging caveman mentality.”
“You know damn well I can be a lover, Sundance.” I drop my voice low and keep my attention on her, so I don’t miss the rapidly fluttering pulse in her throat, or the way she tries to swallow down the lust she feels.
“Shut up, Stanton. You know what I mean.”
“Hmm.” Unfortunately, I do. “How about we head back to the hotel and grab something from the rooftop bar. Maybe eating under the stars will help set the mood, so we can come up with some suitable ideas.”
“Sounds good,” she chirps as she slides into the car.
Once I’m buckled in next to her, the driver takes us back to the hotel. We head straight up to the rooftop bar, and even though it’s cold, the retractable glass barriers and the outdoor heaters make it warm enough that we can shed our outer layers.
“This is gorgeous,” Bailey says, and she snaps a photo of the cocktail she ordered. I watch as she types on her phone. “V is gonna flip.” She looks up at me, her eyes dancing. “Too bad we can’t really see stars, but the Christmas lights are a decent second.”
“Yeah, stars aren’t something we get to see much of in the city. Too much light pollution.” I look up at the night sky. “Some of them break through, though.”
“The brightest, most determined ones,” she says, her voice almost reverent.
She’s beautiful. The soft shine of the Christmas lights, the glow from the heaters, they all seem to hit her just right, illuminating her in a way that makes it impossible to look away. Brighter and more vibrant than everyone else out here. I’m staring, I know I am, and when she catches me, her eyes flit away quickly, and she fidgets with her scarf.
“So, Chicago is for Lovers,” she says into her cocktail glass before she takes a sip. “We could play up the things about Chicago that people tend to love. Sports. Pizza. Stuff like that. But I kind of want to take a more elegant, romantic approach.”
“Okay.”