Page 92 of Find My Way Down to You

“But a great best friend,” I call as she walks away.

Max replies with a middle finger and a smirk over her shoulder.

I settle back into the grass, one arm thrown over my eyes. There aren’t many trees on the lawns. Most of them border the fenced-in cliffsides. Overhead, the shrieks of gulls echo. Cars cruise down Shoreline Drive.

But it feels like it’s just me in the world. Me and my intrusive thoughts.

I’m not alone for long. A shadow falls over me.

“Is this what you consider fun? Wow. I am disappointed.”

Surprise and something unruly thud in my chest at the sound of his voice.

I lower my arm. In the bright sun, all of Cary’s angles are softened. Light halos him. Gold against all the black he’swearing. His mouth curves into a half smirk as I drink him in.

“You’re here,” I breathe.

He looks around as if he’s shocked himself. “Well, someone promised me this world could be…fun. I still have my doubts.”

My nose wrinkles. “I saidhumanscould be fun. And I didn’t promise.”

He rolls his eyes. He’s wearing another Henley. The buttons are undone. I’m taunted by the flash of strong collarbones, his muscled chest. I avert my gaze to that one curly lock drooping over his forehead.

Cary’s eyebrows tilt up. “Are you calling me a liar?”

“No.” I grin. “But just because you’re ageless doesn’t mean your memory is.”

A muted laugh wobbles in his throat. It’s a weird thing to get used to. Cary thinking I’m amusing. But it’s cute too, the way he tries to hide it with half-hearted scowls and straightening his shoulders.

My eyes drop away from his face to something in his left hand. “What’s that?”

“Oh.” That flicker of shyness I saw in his eyes after we kissed is back. His fingers tighten on a white paper bag. He looks between it and me. It’s as if he’s deciding something.

I sit up. “Is it for me?”

He nods.

Unexpected heat climbs up my neck. I’m not sure what tosay, how to react. Cary got something. For me. I stand, dusting blades of grass off my shorts.

“What is it?” I ask curiously.

Cary passes me the bag. He pretends to be uninterested as I peel it open, but I can feel his eyes on me. In the corner of my vision, I see his smile when I pull out a cookie from the best bakery on State Street Promenade. In all of Santa Barbara, actually.

I gape at him.

He shrugs. “Sometimes, having a sweet tooth is not so bad.”

His face brightens while my cheeks burn even hotter remembering what I said to him at the pizzeria the first time I saw him.

“Stop staring at me like that,” he says. “It is not a big deal.”

But itis. Somehow, he picked out my favorite flavor—strawberry cheesecake. It’s pink and thick like two cookies smashed together. When I take a bite, the soft, chewy warmth makes me moan.

He clears his throat. “Everyone deserves something sweet.” The corners of his lips glide up. “Even annoying, stubborn bad dancers like you.”

A comeback crawls up my throat, but my mouth is too full of cookie to say anything. Instead, I glare at him. Though, it’s very unconvincing since I’m grinning too.

I can’t believe he did this. That he thought of me. Curiously, I want to know how he paid for the cookie. Do Deathless carrymoney? Did he steal it? But I’m too caught up in how pleased he looks as I finish in three more bites.