I sighed. “I’ll see what I can do, Webber. I’m not sure how you fix this, either, but I’ll do what I can to give her someone she feels like she can talk to.”
Webber’s hand came down on my shoulder and he turned me to him. “Thank you for giving her your time. That’s everything to her. And to me.”
I pressed my head against his wrist before saying, “Will your bike also fit a box of cookies?”
He snorted. “As long as you don’t mind them being strapped down sideways.”
I frowned. “I have no clue what their flavors are this week. Maybe I’ll have to do a check on that.”
He took my hand like he’d done it a thousand times and led me into the Cookie Explosion.
I couldn’t even bask in the smell of cookies because I was in such a euphoric state due to him touching me of his own free will.
His man hand felt massive against my skinny girl hand.
Callused and strong, I never wanted him to let me go.
“What do you want?” Webber asked, breaking me out of my contemplation of a lifetime of him holding my hand.
“Uhh.” I looked at the board in front of me, studying all the cookies, and settled with, “All of them?”
Webber snorted. “Like, you want all the cookies they have? Or you want one of each flavor?”
I bit my lip. “One of each flavor.”
“You are going to eat nine cookies by yourself?” he asked.
“I was sort of hoping that maybe I could eat some of all of them, and maybe you’d help me,” I admitted.
He looked down at me, and his blue eyes caught mine. “Is that an invite?”
“Yes,” I squeaked.
He grinned and turned back to the wide-eyed teen and said, “We’ll take one of each flavor, please.”
I had to force myself not to squeal in excitement.
The teen put all of the cookies in the box when Webber paid, and then he took the cookies. He never let my hand go.
Was this what it felt like to be on top of the world?
Because I was definitely riding really high right now.
He held my hand until we got to his bike, then he let me go to strap my cookies down along with my bag.
“Need to rent a locker at Slow Roll so that you don’t have to keep lugging your bag around everywhere you go,” he muttered as he got it into position, likely smooshing the cookies in the process. “It’d be easier to get you here on the bike, too.”
I swallowed that same squeak of excitement that’d been threatening for the last ten minutes and said, “Or maybe I get a backpack.”
“Backpack makes you off balance, though,” he admitted. “I want you to be comfortable on my bike, and safe.”
He wanted me safe.
Shit.
That felt like he’d just offered me the world.
“Come on,” he said as he held out the dreaded sweat jacket to me. “Arms in.”