He Shoots, She scores

Chapter Thirty-Six: Gracie | Cookies

I feel him before I see him. My body has this Weston radar that goes off when he's in a one-mile radius and it's never wrong. My body buzzes with anticipation. While in the middle of chatting with Enzo and Diana, some of the background dancers I've grown close with, I whirl around to see Weston and RJ approaching me. Those boys stick out intensely, not only because of their towering heights, but with the smugness that they carry themselves. RJ strolls the room like an invisible spotlight follows him everywhere, shooting smirks at whoever is looking, which happens to be every female in this room, even some men. Weston however doesn't pay anyone else attention except for me. His gaze locks me in and I find it hard to look away. It's only when he's directly face to face that I realize he's holding something in his hands. "What is....oh!"

I take the Tupperware container and pop off the lid to discover piles of perfectly shaped cookies. "You actually did it?" I cry, more of confusion than anything else.

"Yeah. Took me hours, I have no idea how you do it so often, but RJ helped, and they taste amazing." When I glance up, I find Weston staring at me instead of the cookies. My heart collapses on itself.

When I first gave him the task of cleaning up and grooming Olive, it was more of a testament to see if he's actually changed. The first week of living together, Weston seemed adamant about chucking my bunny out the window whilst I was asleep. But the other day, I watched with amused shock as he gently handled Olive with patience, determined to finish his task despite being nipped in the skin several times. And so I upped the challenge, telling him to bake a dozen cookies because it was the first thing I could think of. I didn't actually care about the cookies. I just wanted to see Weston put the effort in to make them and wow...did he ever.

RJ snakes a hand between us to grab one. He takes a massive bite. "Usually, Weston forbids me from eating sugary stuff the day of a big game, but I think Mr. Macho guy is softening up now."

Weston smacks RJ's hand when he tries for another cookie. "Your sugar levels are gonna crash" Weston scolds him. I stifle a laugh. "Semi-finals are tonight. I don't want to see you trudging on the ice."

"Weston" I start. "Thank you. You really didn't have to do this."

"I'd do anything to make you happy" he says, as if offended that I'd think otherwise. He grabs the Tupperware from me and shakes it, like an owner calling a dog. "Alright, free cookies, who wants some?"

This attracts the fair majority of my castmates. I take one for myself and moan of pleasure when I take a bite. "Holy. This is amazing! I can't believe you guys made this yourselves!"

RJ puffs out his chest. "It was mainly me. Weston was more my sous-chef."

"Yeah, yeah" Weston says, rolling his eyes. "Hey." He tugs me aside so we're distanced from the mob trying to steal some desserts. With his hand still clasping mine, he rubs his thumb back and forth. "Come to my game tonight."

I blink up at him a few times. "You want me there?"

"Are you kidding? I want you anywhere I am."

"I- um..."

"Please." Those soft eyes melt into mine. Oh, no. This is bad. My urge to say 'yes' is just as strong as my desire to jump on him and kiss him to death. I can't even deny it anymore. Through these past few weeks, Weston has exceeded all the expectations I've given him. If I had any withering doubts about Weston being a good guy, they've all shrunk by now. "Okay. I'll come watch you."

The pure happiness and elation on his face has my knees going weak.