When she disappeared inside the laundry room, he went to the kitchen. As much as he loved home cooked food, he never made it and generally reserved that delicacy for visits to his parents’ house. It was probably why he felt like Mother Hubbard as he looked through his cabinets and refrigerator for any sign of something edible.
“Maybe we should order some pizza or something?” Bailey said, peering over his shoulder.
He closed the refrigerator door. “Probably. Trust me, I would have had this entire thing better planned out if it wasn’t for our rainy day fiasco.”
“I actually kinda like that you didn’t already have it planned out that you’d be bringing me back to your place.”
“I feel like that was a direct shot at my confidence.”
“It was,” she said, smiling.
“I wish you would stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“That thing with your face.” He leaned down and touched his lips to hers. “My kryptonite.”
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