Babysitting the Player

Chapter 10

"You weren't gonna get that?" I ask.

"Do I look like I was gonna get that?"

I laugh and head down the stairs. My fingers grab the cool metal of the doorknob and I open the door to let Bryce in. "Hey." I smile.

"Hi." He pulls me in for a hug. "How are you feeling? Do you have cramps or anything?"

"Not really." I shake my head and notice the box of brownie mix in his hands. "You're the best."

He smiles and takes his shoes off and I lead him up the stairs to the kitchen.

"What do we need for those? Just an egg?" I ask.

"And oil."

"Can you grab the oil from that cabinet?" I point to the cabinet next to the fridge.

"Sure." Bryce grabs the oil while I grab an egg.

I open the cabinet above the fridge so I can grab the glass pan but I don't see it. "Where did it go?"

"Where did what go?" Bryce asks.

"The glass square pan I always use for brownies." I open the next cabinet, above the pantry, and don't see it there either. "Grandma, do you know where the glass pan for brownies is?"

"Nope."

"You don't?"

"Nope."

"But you know where everything is."

"Nope."

"Grandma!"

"What?"

"Where is the pan?"

"I don't know."

"Do you actually not know?" I ask.

"Why does it matter?"

"Well, are you losing it or do you just not give a shit?"

"I just don't give a shit." She laughs.

I shake my head with a smile.

"I think I found it!" Bryce calls from the kitchen.

I walk in and see him holding it.

"Where was it?" I ask.

"That cabinet." He points to the cabinet across from the fridge. "This is it?"

"Yeah."

He sets the pan on the counter and wraps his arms around me.

"What?" I ask.

"Nothing. I just like holding you."

Johnny never holds me like this.

I smile and pull away. "Should we start baking?" I don't wait for an answer before I grab the mixing bowl. "Could you preheat the oven to three hundred?"

"Sure." He walks over to the oven and presses a few buttons while I open the box of brownie mix.

I dump the mix in the bowl and unscrew the cap on the bottle of oil. Bryce cracks the egg and drops it in the bowl while I fill the tablespoon measure with oil. I dump it in while he throws out the shell and washes his hands.

Bryce mixes everything together and pours it into the pan as the oven beeps to let us know it's up to temperature. I go to grab the pan but he stops me.

"I got it," he says and picks up the pan. "I don't want you to risk burning your hand putting it into the hot oven."

That's actually kind of sweet.