Page 128

A beat later, Blaise taps my hip and clears his throat. “Speaking of sharing…” He reaches for a folded page from his hoodie pocket. “You wanna write with us?”

I blink. “Right now?”

“Why not?” he grins. “I’ve had this idea kicking around for weeks. Could use your magic.”

He shows me the lyrics – just a first verse and a chorus – and something about it clicks instantly. I hum a few bars, suggest a line change, and then Xar’s adding a guitar part, while Dane drums against the cushion beside him.

We fall into it. Together.

And I’ve never felt moreright.

By the time we’re done, the sun’s dipped low and the kitchen beckons again – dinner waiting to be made, hearts full, and something sacred hanging between us. I linger, still basking in the glow of it all – ofthem. My fingers itch with the need to keep creating, to bottle this feeling. But then Xar clears his throat, standing and brushing his palms on his jeans.

“Do you want to make dinner with me again?” he asks, voice casual but eyes locked on mine.

Something sparks low in my stomach.

“Sure,” I say, a little too quickly, already rising to follow him into the kitchen.

The other two clamber to their feet and follow us out of the nest, pausing in the hallway.

“We’ll be in the lounge until it’s ready. Just holler,” Blaise says, a little too brightly. “Don’t come knocking.”

“Still working on your mystery surprise?” I call over my shoulder.

“Shhh,” Blaise says, grinning like a smug bastard. “Artists at work.”

The kitchen is warm, golden from the light over the stove. Xar moves with easy confidence, reaching for ingredients like he already knows what I’ll say yes to. I lean against the counter, watching him chop onions with precise, practiced motions.

“What are we making?”

“Something comforting,” he replies. “Nothing fancy. Just…good.”

Our hands brush as I reach for the garlic. I should pull away but I don’t. The charge that zips between us is unmistakable. He glances at me, and something hot passes through the space between us. I can’t look away.

Every motion becomes heavier. More loaded. When he passes me a spoon, our fingers linger. When I lean over to stir, I feel the heat of him behind me, just watching.

“I missed cooking with you,” he says softly.

“We cooked together once.”

He smirks. “Still.”

I laugh under my breath, but the air between us has thickened. The dish simmers, fragrant and rich, but my attention is entirely on him now – his scent curling around me like smoke and spice.

Xar steps behind me, one hand landing gently on my waist. “Evie.”

I turn slowly. His mouth is so close. His hand curves around my jaw, thumb brushing my cheek. And then?—

He kisses me.

It’s not soft.

It’s not sweet.

It’shungry.

His mouth claims mine with a growl that rumbles against my chest. I gasp, my hands flying to his biceps, and he uses the opportunity to deepen the kiss, tongue sliding against mine withheat and purpose. His other hand presses into the small of my back, dragging me flush against him.