“It was a cookie, not a crack pipe.”

“Cookie for you. Cookie for me.”

“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.”

“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.”

“It’s just a cookie, sweetheart.”

“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’m a shallow, shallow boy. Hey, it helps that you’re pretty. It brings out the nice guy in me. Makes me what to share my cookies with you.”