Emily checked the time on the oven. “Another five minutes?” She cracked the oven door open for a spot check. “Yep,” she uttered, wiping the sweat off her brow.
Her roommate walked into the kitchen, fixing his tie. He saw dozens of cookies cooling on the bar and a pile of dishes in the sink. “Why the hell ya making cookies at this hour?”
“Because, Shane, if I had a date or a boyfriend, I’d be making out.” She collapsed onto the couch and started to channel surf through the TV stations.
Shane checked the fridge, “so you plan on ringing in the New Year baking?”
“That or sleeping.”
He popped open a beer. “Well, if you get tired of the apartment and baking,” he handed her an invitation. “I will be here.”
“Saying you can’t go a few hours without me?” She chuckled.
“Just saying is all. No one really wants to see the New Year alone.”
“What are you talking about? I got Betty Crocker in the Kitchen and Mr. Rabbit in the bedroom.”
“Not what I meant,” he grinned and shook his head. “Speaking of Mr. Rabbit, would you two mind keeping it down.”
“Excuse me if our love breaks the sound barrier.”
“I feel sorry for your next lay.”
“If that ever happens.”
“Seriously, feel free to drop by.” He put his coat on and looked at her. Happy New Year, E.”
“You too, Shane.”
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