The seriousness of the words and his sudden intensity scared her a bit because she couldn’t fathom what he had to say. But her mind could conjure up all sorts of things. All sorts of impossible, it’s-too-early-for-this things.

She slipped off the bed, getting to her feet, and Keiran did the same. “I gotta go, and you gotta go before the others come. I’m not hiding you or this thing. I just want to tell them my way.”

Keiran raised the brow that she was sure could still infuriate her. “You know, there’s a word for this thing. It’s called dating.”

“Anyways, I need to wash my face, and I’ll see you later at the party?”

He sighed. “Fine.” Tugged on her robe to pull her closer. She came easily. “I will see you later, and we’ll work on you saying, “Keiran and I are dating,” okay?” The forehead kiss startled her, and Keiran laughed softly. “Your face right now.”

“Get out of here.”

“Or you’ll what? Spank me?” He sounded so eager and hopeful.

“You don’t want to start this because you will lose.” She struck a pose, and like a moth to a flame, his eyes traced the curve of her hip.

So damn easy, she thought. It was going to be fun winning.

Keiran exhaled deeply, eyes going soft. “God, I...” He froze, and her eyes grew wide, but he stepped back, looking around for his shoes. “Yeah, I really gotta go,” he muttered.

Cherisse stared at the door after he’d left. He’d definitely been about to say something too serious and too soon for the moment. She needed to wash her face, dammit. Cleanse. Tone. Moisturize. Sunscreen. Focus on that.

She completely chickened out at breakfast because she knew her girls well. Reba would’ve shrieked, and all eyes would have turned their way. Cherisse didn’t need an audience for this, and she didn’t want Remi’s judgment while she ate.

Once they’d gotten back to her apartment, she started pulling ingredients to craft a mini mock-up of the cake she envisioned for Ava’s wedding. Baking soothed and drove her into this zone where nothing else mattered. Focusing on slicing the finished cake into layers, then plopping the prepared buttercream in the middle of each layer and slowly spreading it out before topping it with the next cake layer eased the anxiousness that had plagued her the whole ride back.

“Is she stress-baking again?”

“I don’t know. She was mixing that batter a lil’ intensely.”

“You should go see what’s up.”

“Me? Nah, I’m good, thanks.”

“She’s your bestie!”

Remi and Reba’s voices carried easily into the kitchen, and Cherisse smiled.

“Okay, fine. I’ll go,” she heard Remi announce, which was then followed by shuffling feet heading for the kitchen. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Remi poke her head in. “Heyyy, buddy. Everything good in here? You know we have that surprise party in a few hours, right? So, uh, what do we have here, hmm?”