Henry and I start down the sidewalk alone, no buffer of other people or solving riddles between us, heading in the direction of what I imagine is his apartment. We take a few steps before he disappears temporarily. Reappearing, he shifts from my right side to the left, falling back in place and walking on the outer edge of the sidewalk, closest to the street, thus nudging me away from the passing cars and bicyclists and toward the safety of the row of brownstones we pass.

You can trust him.

You’re safe.

“Did you have fun?” he asks. The air is crisper now that the sun has set, and I shiver under my sweater, cursing myself for not bringing my larger jacket.

“That was so much fun. I’ve never done an escape room before, but I’m definitely going back!”

“Are you still up for making cookies? Or was that a polite excuse to step away so you could reject my proposal of sweet treats in private?”

The teasing tone causes me to giggle. I glance up at him, a gleam in my eye. “The only reason I suggested this idea was for the cookies. Don’t think you’re special or anything.”

“Oh, so you didn’t want to be stuck in a room with me for an hour?” Henry places his hand over his heart, sounding outraged. His face betrays him, another full grin splitting across his mouth. “I knew you were ruthless. I’m seriously concerned about your sugar intake. Might I propose a vegetable board instead? I could set out carrots and cele—” His elation falters as he watches me shiver again, an action I try to disguise with a maneuver around a spilled ice cream cone. “Shit, Emma. You’re freezing.” He stops in the middle of the sidewalk and pulls off his peacoat, placing it around my shoulders and hugging it snug to my body. “Better?”

I nod aggressively, cocooning myself in the warmth, the telltale scent of Henry filling my nostrils, causing me to emit an unintentional sigh. “Much. Thank you.” I smile to reassure him, and he nods, placated with my heat level before we resume walking.

“I’m on the next block. Not too much further.”

We cross an intersection and approach a large brick building. Henry waves to the security guard planted out front.

“Evening, Charlie!” he calls out as he opens the door, holding it for me and touching the small of my back to guide me inside. Charlie waves in return and I follow Henry into the small elevator and watch as he pushes the button for the twelfth floor, his hand no longer on me. It’s colder without his touch.

“What kind of cookies are we making?”

“Chocolate chip. Does that pass the Emma Burns Sweets Lover test?”

“My favorite!”

“How are you feeling about next week? I think tonight went well.”