Measure, mix, bake. Measure, mix, bake. That's the only thing you've done all Saturday morning. The counter is covered with baking utensils and ingredients while some of the flour- scratch that, most of it- has made it onto your apron with some smudges on your face. From chocolate chip to snicker doodles to just about every other kind of cookie, you've lost count of how many you've made. But the sad part is that you can't even eat any. Your mother had asked you to help her since she double booked her weekend and had forgotten all about a Sunday bake sale she is supposed to go to. So here you are, whipping out hundreds of sweet treats that you don't get to taste.

The oven beeps once more and you take out the tray, setting it aside to cool before starting on a new batch. You measure out the sugar, only to realize there isn't enough left. Somehow you made a mistake calculating how much you would need and didn't buy enough. However the store is quite a distance away and you don't exactly feel like making a trip to go back there again to see the creepy guy at the register who came onto you way too strongly. Not to mention the fact that he couldn't even keep his eyes on your face, preferring to stare further south at your chest. Frowning down at the incomplete bowl of ingredients, you have no other choice but to ask a neighbor.

After washing up a bit and wiping your face, you decide that you look decent enough. Walking over to the home next door, you notice several chew toys scattered around their yard plus a dog house. As you draw closer, you are pleasantly surprised when two small dogs pop out, seeing as you'd never heard a bark coming from their house. The pups happily run over to sniff at your feet and their tails wag about, making you chuckle. They follow you onto the front porch that is decorated with potted plants and a cheerful doormat that reads "Must smile to enter." A few pairs of shoes lie next to it, including a pair of men's Vans (blue with a hint of gray) plus a tiny pair of Spiderman sneakers.

Standing there and taking in the details feels strange, the unfamiliarity of it all striking hard. Your mother always made sure your schedule was jam-packed with school work and house chores, so you'd stay out of trouble. But it seems like your whole life has passed you by. You didn't have time for the things you wanted to do. For years you were never able to learn a new instrument, read a good book just for pleasure or make more friends. And now you realize you've been so busy that you never met your neighbors. You know absolutely nothing about them. Who are these people? What do they do for a living? They have two dogs but do they have more pets? A fish or bird perhaps? Who do the Spiderman shoes belong to? Maybe a young son? What about the Vans?

A thousand questions swim through your mind as you knock and wait for an answer. You don't really know who to expect behind the door but when it swings open, the sight takes your breath away. The guy is a unique kind of handsome, neither the typical Hollywood movie star appearance nor rugged stud look. He is the kind of good looking made of honest features, all parts of his face revealing something about who he is inside. His smile reveals white straight teeth so he must've had braces as a child. Or it is just a God-given blessing. But either way, it is a genuine smile, one that you don't see often these days. Both cheeks are marked with a dimple, a boyish trait he didn't quite outgrow. His green eyes stare straight into yours and he has slight wrinkles beside them from laughing so much. There are three rips in his t-shirt but it somehow works for him and his style seems to match the Vans you'd seen.

"Umm, hi," you force out, trying to hide the tone of awkward shyness. "I-I'm sorry to bother you but I live next door. I uh seem to have run out of sugar and was uh hoping you might be so kind as to give me some."

Not hiding it well at all.

"Sure," he grins, not minding your nervous stutter. "Come on in and I'll grab some from the kitchen."

Remembering the shoes beside the doormat, you decide it'd be best to take off your slippers before stepping in. Once you make it beyond the door, you enter a whole new world. A world that belongs to whoever this guy is. The first room you see is the living room with family photos hanging on the walls and sitting on shelves. There's a piano and guitar next to the fireplace plus some more chew toys which the dogs have now started to gnaw at.

"I'm Kendall, by the way." He extends his hand and you shake it. If he is the one who plays the guitar, he has surprisingly soft hands, no calluses. After you introduce yourself, he points towards the big leather couch at a little boy and adds, "And that's Conner."

While Kendall goes off to get the sugar, Conner flashes a smile at you. His hair is unkempt but it is a rich brown color that matches the couch. In his lap is an opened book and he is almost on the last page. Gazing up with wide eyes, he pats the seat next to him, gesturing for you to sit. And with that cute round face, you can't say no.

"Hi. We were reading."

"Oh really? What book is it?"

"Dinosaurs!" he growls, doing his best to look tough like the red T-Rex on the page.

After a small giggle, you can't resist asking. "Is Kendall your big brother?"

"No but I want him to be. Mommy says he can't be my big brother cause he already has his own family. So he's just my babysitter," after a short pause he adds, "for now. I'll make him be my big brother one day."

Once again you giggle, already wishing you could give this kid all the cookies in your kitchen— in the world even. Conner just watches you laugh, not understanding what he said that is so funny. Then out of nowhere, he asks.

"Are you Kendall's girlfriend?"

"W-what? I-I mean no," you tell him, suddenly blushing. "I just met him."

"Oh okay. I thought you were cause you're pretty and Mommy says all girlfriends are pretty," he explains sounding a bit disappointed, either because he guessed wrong or he truly wants you to be with Kendall. "Maybe when Kendall is my big brother, you can be his girlfriend too."

Right as Conner announces this, Kendall comes back with two containers of sugar. Whether he heard the thing about being his girlfriend or not, you'll never know because his face gives nothing way but you hope he didn't so you can finally stop blushing.

"I wasn't sure if you needed brown or white sugar so I got you both."

"Thank you Kendall. I hope I can return the favor someday."

"Well in that case, uh maybe you could stay," he offers, rubbing the back of his neck. "I can make you some tea or umm Conner and I will read his dinosaur book to you. We'll even reread the beginning so you're caught up with the story. Right Conner?"

Conner nods fervently and jumps in his seat, already turning back to the first page.

As you stare at Kendall – his smirk, his sweet heart and his whole charming self—you start to regret living your life for your mother instead of living it for yourself more and more. The past years all flashback in your head and there's an endless list of things you missed out on because of the tightly-knit-schedule life you had. Above all, you missed out on getting to know this guy. But you aren't going to let it be that way anymore.

Grinning at the two is your way of saying yes and you scoot over on the couch, making room for Kendall. He sweeps up Conner, placing the little one on his lap. Once they open up the book, everything seems to be forgotten. The cookies can wait and having enough sugar is the last thing on your mind. And if anyone asks why you stayed, you'd tell them because you couldn't say no to Conner's cute face. But in reality, it was the other boy you couldn't resist.