“I'm beginning to think cookies is a code word for something else.""Maybe it is." He tugged on my bag again as he took a confident step back, forcing me down another step. "And just think about it. If cookie was a code word, whatever it symbolizes, it's been in your mouth, sweetheart.”

“I'd still be nice to you if you were ugly." "Okay."A wicked grin slipped over his full lips. He bent his head down and whispered, "I just wouldn't offer you any cookies."I folded my arms and tried to ignore the close proximity of our faces. "I'm starting to think cookies is a code word for something else.""Maybe it is." He tugged on my bag again as he took a confident step back, forcing me down another step. "And just think about it. If cookie was a code word, whatever it symbolizes, it's been in your mouth, sweetheart.”

“It’s just a cookie, sweetheart.”

“I can see that you don’t believe me. Maybe it was the cookie? Well, you refused to taste my cookies last night and honestly, I was going to eat the other cookie, but you looked so tired and sad sitting there, I figured you needed the cookie more than I did.”

“Cookie for you. Cookie for me.”

“W-w-what?" I stepped aside or was forced aside as he entered my apartment, carrying something wrapped in tinfoil, a carton of eggs - huh? - and a tiny frying pan. "Cam what are you doing? It's eight in the morning.""Thanks for the update on the time." he headed straight for my kitchen. "It's one thing I've never been able to master: the telling of time.”

“I have cookies.”“Cookies?” My brows rose.“Yeah, and I made them. I’m quite the baker.” For some reason, I couldn’t picture that. “You baked cookies?”“I bake a lot of things, and I’m sure you’re dying to know all about those things. But tonight, it was chocolate and walnut cookies. They are the shit if I do say so myself.”