“No, I didn’t,” Rona calls to us.
She’s watching. They all are. Rona, the producer, the makeup girl eye-fucking me, Mr. Mustache. The camera. All eyes are on us but I keep mine focused on hers. On Lilly’s.
“Why are you here? Really?” she insists bluntly.
“I told you. Cookies and your smiling face.”
“That’s insane.”
“So is not wanting to be on TV.”
She rolls her eyes. It’s a reason not to look at me. She tries two more times to avoid it, but her eyes always come back to mine.
“Give it one hour,” I bargain, dipping my voice low and persuasive. “Think of what it will do for the bakery having me on the episode. Of what kind of publicity you’ll get when I take the cookies to practice and hand them out to the press.”
She’s skeptical. Her tone tells me as much when she asks, “The press will be at your practice?”
“We’re Super Bowl contenders. They’re everywhere we are. I’ll tell them about the episode. When to watch. Hell, have you got a t-shirt? I’ll wear it.”
“I’ll get one!” Rona offers. “Green or purple?”
I think back to yesterday, to what Lilly was wearing. A purple sweater to match their van. “Purple. Extra-large if you’ve got it.”
Lilly jitters her leg impatiently. “You’ll really do it if I go on camera? You’ll be in the episode and tell the press about us?”
“I swear it.”
She frowns, her eyes on the glare being cast across the stainless steel top of the island. “What do you want in return?”
“I told you; an hour.”
“An hour baking.”
“That’s it. Do we have a deal?”
“Yeah,” she agrees guardedly. “It’s a deal.”
“You won’t regret it.”
Her eyes turn to me so they can be impatient with me. “You better hope that’s true or it’s your ass.”
“I love it when you’re ruthless. It turns me on.” I clap my hands together, jumping off the stool to address the room. “Get your aprons on, ladies! It’s about to get sticky up in here.”
Lilly snorts indelicately. “And right out the gate you gave them something they’ll have to edit out.”
“Are you kidding me?” I laugh. “I just gave them their opening sequence.”
It takes a while for everyone to set up. Almost an hour. Lilly has a hurried, whispered discussion with Rona before she signs the waiver, and even though I don’t know the reason why she doesn’t want to do it, I understand the reason why she will. She’s doing it for the bakery, for her friend, and I hope in some small way that she’s doing it for me. That she wants to spend this time with me because I could spend all day with her if she’d let me. I’m hooked on her in the craziest way, a way that brought me down here first thing in the morning to get close to her again, and I’m already regretting the fact that I’ll have to leave in a couple hours.
As the girls get the ingredients set up I make a show of pulling my red plaid shirt off over my head and tossing it to Sandra off camera. I’m not wearing anything underneath. Nothing but tan skin, a cut core, and a smile.
Rona and Kendra slow clap. Someone tosses a dollar onto the table in front of me.
Lilly throws my new purple t-shirt in my face.
“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” she accuses, but she’s smiling. It’s beautiful on her. Like a rose in winter.
I slowly pull the shirt over my head, stepping in close to her. “You could, you know. Help yourself to this.”
She looks up into my eyes, carefully avoiding my chest. My still naked abs. “I’d rather not.”
“You’d rather kiss me.”
She laughs at my boldness. “No. No, I wouldn’t.”
“You’re right, you don’t want to kiss me.” I tug the shirt down to the hem of my jeans, closing in another step. “You want me to kiss you.”
“Your lines are better today. Way off base, but less offensive.”
“I wanna lick you.”
She grins. “And we’re back.”
I slowly put a hand on the counter next to her hip. “I thought about you all last night.”
“I know for a fact this is not a story I’m going to enjoy.”
“I was watching Game of Thrones. Have you seen it?”
“I do live in America, yes.”
“Cersei Lannister was being a bitch, her kid was acting insane, and I was starting to wonder why I was watching the show. Then Daenerys Targaryen showed up.”
She smiles despite herself. “I like her.”
I slide my hand along the counter, closing the distance between us. “I love her.”
“You mean you would love to bang her,” she chuckles.
“I mean she’s a badass woman with more backbone than half the characters on that show,” I reply seriously. “And do you know who she reminds me of?”
“I have an idea.”
“My mom.”
She blinks, surprised. “Oh.”
“Who’d you think I meant?” I ask innocently.
Lilly’s eyes burn with silent irritation.
“Anyway, she’d like you,” I continue.
“The Mother of Dragons?”
“My mom.”
“The Mother of Arrogant Asses?”