“You liked?”
I coughed out a laugh. “I loved.”
“I’m a quick learner.”
Damn straight she was. Placing my hands on her shoulders, I guided her onto her back. “Avery?”
She let her hands fall beside her head. “Yeah?”
“Get ready.”
A puzzled look crossed her face. “Get ready for what?”
I captured her mouth, letting my lips and my tongue tell her exactly what to get ready for and it was a hell of a long time before I used those two things for anything other than loving her.
“Cookies! I got cookies!”
“Oh! What kind?” Shortcake’s voice floated from the bedroom.
She’d left the door unlocked for me, something that I was going to have to talk to her about later, but right now I had a warm plate of special delivery. I headed back to the bedroom, finding her lying on her bed, hands folded across her stomach.
“Peanut-butter cookies,” I told her. “But special.”
She grinned as she stretched her bare feet. “How are they special?”
“Well, besides the fact that I just baked them in honor of you finishing your last exam, they’re not just any kind of peanut-butter cookies.” I sat the plate on the nightstand. “But Reese’s peanut-butter cookies.”
Her brows rose. “And that makes them different?”
“Hell’s yeah.” I jumped on the bed, grinning as Shortcake bounced. “What are you doing in here?”
“Being lazy.”
I studied her closer. “You okay?”
“Yes.” When she smiled and it reached her eyes, I relaxed. “Cookie?”
“Cookie . . .” I reached over, eyeing the plate for one that appeared moist. Once I settled on one, I handed it over.
Holding one hand under her chin, she bit and immediately moaned. “Oh my God, these are . . .” She took another bite. “So damn good.”
“I know, right?” I picked up one, popping the whole thing in my mouth.
Shortcake reached for another and I grabbed the plate, holding it away from her. She punched me in the stomach. I gave her a cookie.
After eating our weight in peanut-butter goodness, I stretched out beside her and picked up a strand of her hair, twirling it around my fingers. I smacked the ends across her nose as her eyes drifted shut. “So what does it feel like to finally be a sophomore in college?”
She retrieved her hair from me. “I’m not officially a sophomore. Not until school starts again in the fall.”
“I deem you a sophomore now.” Undeterred, I caught another strand and trailed it across her cheek. “What I say goes.”
“Then how does it feel finally being a senior? Next year is your last.”
“Amazing.” I traced her lower lip. “It feels amazing.”
Shortcake rolled onto her side, wrapping her fingers around the collar of my shirt. “It feels pretty damn good to be a sophomore.”
“Would be better if you didn’t sign up for summer classes.”
“True,” she agreed.