“Ooh, I love you, I love you, I love you.” I smile at the cookies.

“Easy, tiger.” He sets down the box and pulls two cookies from the bag.

I look him over with a smile. “You know, I read the book Holes last week.”

He lifts a brow. “You did?”

I nod and eye him closely. “And at the end, the boy who had to dig all those holes finds a lost treasure and all his bad luck goes away. Pretty fitting, don’t you think?”

A slow grin pulls up his face. “I knew I liked that book for a reason.” He looks around my room. “So what do you think of your new home?”

I grin at the bright yellow walls and the new blue bedding I bought for my bed. “I love it.”

He hands me a cookie. “And you know the best part about your room?”

I eye him. “What’s that?”

He grins. “That it’s right next door to an empty room that will soon be mine.”

“Are you being serious?” I smile so widely my face hurts.

He nods. “We’re going to be neighbors—if that’s okay with you.”

“That is more than okay,” I say. “That’s incredible!”

“Then here’s to being neighbors.” He holds up his cookie and grins. “And to handcuffs.”

I tap my cookie to his with a smile. “Here’s to handcuffs.”

Chelsea lives in Phoenix, Arizona, where she spends most of her time writing stories, painting murals, and avoiding housework at all costs. She’s ridiculously bad at doing dishes and claims to be allergic to laundry. Her obsessions include: superheroes, coffee, sleeping in, and crazy socks. She lives with her husband and two children, who graciously tolerate her inability to resist teenage drama on TV and her complete lack of skill in the kitchen.