HIS LITTLE PET
I asked, looking up.
"A cinnamon roll," Maverick grinned. "I remember you mentioned you liked the ones from this place. Eat it while it's fresh. I gotta go to practice, but I'll text you later, okay?"
"Okay," I whispered. "Thank you, Mave."
Hearing me use his nickname in public made his smirk widen. He flashed me a quick wink, turned around, and jogged out of the café to catch up with his team.
I opened the paper bag, the warm, sweet scent of cinnamon filling the air. I took a bite and found myself smiling stupidly from the sweetness of the pastry.