I relax my face and sigh. “That sucks they have a test when they come back,” I cop out, relieved when he hums out an agreement instead of questioning my thoughts.
I’m surprised when Aiden comes up behind me, putting one hand over mine where it holds the spoon, and the other covering the one that holds the bowl into place. I settle into his back without a second thought, letting him take over stirring the chocolate chips in until they start disappearing into the sugary mixture.
“Why are you helping me anyway?” I ask, voice quiet so we can have a private moment without one of the others commenting. They’re usually respectful anyway, giving us space and only teasing when the moment is right. But sometimes Aiden will shoot them all looks if he and I are together upstairs and his arm hooks around my waist or his hand slides into the back pocket of my jeans as if he’s challenging them to comment.
They never do.
They just accept what is.
So why haven’t I?
His arms tighten around me. “Because baking makes you happy, and I like seeing you that way. And I enjoy spending time with you even when you’re scowling at everyone.”
I go to refute the statement but stop myself knowing my resting bitch face is top notch. All the guys tease me about it. Even Justin admitted he was shocked I was a “cool chick” after getting to know me better because I always looked two seconds away from murdering someone in class.
“You must keep really bad company if I’m the only person you enjoy spending time with,” I tease, twisting to look up at him with a smirk.
He’s already looking down at me. “You do get me off like no other.”
I elbow him as hard as I can, which is still a weak attempt at bodily harm on someone who has like two percent total body fat. “Asshole.”
He chuckles above me, focusing back on the dough we’re working on. “I’m fucking with you, Ivy. Don’t make me say it.”
“Say what?”
I feel his nose nestle against the top of my head, then his lips press against the crown of my skull. “That I like you.”
Thump, thump, thump.
“That I want to see where this goes,” he adds, lips peppering another kiss against me.
Thumpthump, thumpthump.
“That I hope you’ll give me a shot.”
I close my eyes and feel one of his arms hook around me and hug me to him. For the longest time we’re quiet. I’m about to answer him, tell him how much I like spending time with him too even if its downstairs doing homework or listening to sports, when DJ walks into the room.
“Ugh. Get a room.” He winks at us and walks over to the fridge, grabbing an energy drink. “But not before finishing the cookies.”
Aiden is probably glaring at him because DJ smirks and says, “What? Your girl knows how to bake. I plan to take full advantage while she’s around. Oh, don’t give me that look. You know what I mean.” When he turns his focus to me, his eyes roll. “You need to give this guy a break and reassure him he doesn’t need to worry about me stealing you away. I mean, I’m a catch, but I don’t think you can handle me.”
The man embracing me snorts dryly. “I think we both know it’s the other way around, Bridges. Get out of here.”
He never corrects him, or anyone, when they call me his girl.
His.
Girl.
But then again, I don’t either.
When did I stop denying it?
Chapter Twenty-One
Ivy
The sweat covering my palms doesn’t go away even with three passes of them over my denim-clad thighs. My eyes focus on the scenery and speeding cars we pass on the interstate as I listen to the soft sound of music crooning from the speakers of his truck. The distraction is enough to stop focusing on the destination.