Page 20 of I Wanna Text You Up

“Anything.”

“Cookies?”

I wave my hand. “Easy.”

“Cupcakes? Fromscratch?”

“That’sinsulting.”

“How about this: you make desserts and I’ll makedinners.”

“Like…alldinners?”

“All dinners when we’re both home,” he says. “Except on Sundays. I won’t be here onSundays.”

“What happens onSundays?”

“I haveplans.”

“Plans?” He nods. “Every single Sunday?” He nodsagain.

Interesting…

“Do we have a dealthen?”

“Deal,” Iagree.

“Good.” He claps his hands together. “We need to shopthen.”

I hold up a hand. “Startingnow? I just went shopping two daysago.”

“And your cabinets are filled with nothing butjunk.”

“It’s notthatbad.”

“It’s prettybad.”

“Fine.” I let out a defeated sigh. “Let’s go shopping then. I’ll put on a propershirt.”

“And pants. Don’t forget to put pantson.”

“Leggings are pants!” I holler over my shoulder as I make my way into mybedroom.

I listen as Caleb shuffles after me and hear his dresser drawers open. I never hear the bedroom door close and itch to sneak into the hallway to see what I can catch a glimpseof.

Instead I dutifully pull out a t-shirt that isn’t three sizes too big, put the plain navy V-neck on, throw my hair into a messy bun, and swipe on a layer of lipgloss.

Caleb saunters out of his room wearing a pair of low-slung jeans instead of the sweatpants he had on, not having bothered to change his shirt. That same ball cap from earlier is backward on his head again, his dark blond hair spilling out fromunderneath.

I’ve never understood the appeal of ball caps before. They’ve always been an odd choice of accessory tome.

Untilnow.

I don’t know if it’s the way he’s wearing it or if it’s that extra swagger it gives him, butdamn.

Caleb without the cap is cute. Caleb with the cap?Sexy.

“You good withdriving?”

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