Aurelian Salvatore:
I didn't realize I was still staring until he turned slightly and caught me at it.
"What?" he asked, one blond brow lifting as he slid the tray fully back into the oven.
"Nothing," I replied too quickly, and finally forced myself to move and look away.
I stepped beside him, close enough that our shoulders nearly brushed again. The counter felt smaller now, our shared space tighter, the scent of herbs and garlic thick in the air. I reached for the bowl of cut vegetables, trying to pretend my pulse wasn't still uneven from earlier.
He handed me a wooden spoon without looking at me. Our fingers touched.
It was brief. Accidental.
It still sent a sharp current up my arm.
I cleared my throat and focused on stirring, watching the vegetables tumble through oil and seasoning. The soft sizzle filled the silence between us, comfortable but charged, like the quiet before a storm that never quite arrives.
"You're smiling," he said casually.
I stiffened. "I am not."
