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“It’s not concern for you, dumbass.” She rolls her eyes. “It’s concern for the rest of us who will have a ruined Friendsgiving and have to smell scorched skin for the rest of our lives.”

He gives her a grin, enjoying getting under her skin. “Fine, I’ll go put on a shirt, but only because it’s cold as fuck and I think my nipples may freeze off.”

I’m not sure why I make myself busy when he comes in. Maybe because of Darla. Or because Murphy and his date just showed up. I turn on the faucet, cleaning up the dishes left in the sink. Maybe because I made this man, a friend, my safe space, the giver of amazing kisses and orgasms, his favorite dish.

And that means something.

“Wait, do I smell peppers?” He moves around the island, checking out the food. “Are those kolaches?”

I shift, looking for his reaction.

“Nadia made them,” Darla says, outing me. “Have you had them before?”

His eyes search me out. “Yeah, I have. Can’t wait to try them.”

There’s a strained huskiness in his voice, and my body feels hot. I tell myself it’s because the oven is on and there’s food warming on the stove.

“I’ll be back,” he announces. “Apparently, there’s a dress code at this event.”

Out back, Jefferson announces that the turkey is finished, and Darla and the others head outside. I hold back, grabbing one of the kolaches and wrapping it in a napkin. Taking a deep breath I go upstairs and knock on his door.

After a beat it swings open and Axel stands before me, rolling up one of the sleeves of his black button-down, revealing a tattooed covered forearm.

“I brought you a–”

He grabs me, pulls me into his room, mouth on mine before I can finish my sentence.

“Wow,” I say, pulling back. “Is that how you greet all your guests at Friendsgiving?”

“Not even close.” He grins, looking down at the pastry in my hand. “That’s for me?”

“Oh, yes.” My brain is fuzzy from that kiss. I hand him the napkin covered pastry. “I wanted to make sure you got one before everyone else.”

He lifts it to his nose and sniffs, then licks his bottom lip before taking a bite. It’s not dainty. No, it’s the bite of a hungry man.

“Good?” I ask, aware that I’m buzzing with anxiety. Wanting a man’s validation isn’t new to me. But wanting it for something like this? It’s strangely nerve wracking.

His eyes close and he moans, “Fuck me.” He shoves the final bit in and grins around a mouthful. “Better than an orgasm.”

“Really?” I ask, feeling proud.

“Okay, maybe not better than, but as good. It’s fucking delicious, T.” He grabs my hip and pulls me close, leaning in for another kiss. He tastes like the kolache. Spicy and warm with a slight hint of sweetness from the bread. “Just like you.”

The way he’s looking at me feels like I’ve been lit on fire. Like the hole inside of me is filled, not with pain and regret, but something warm and nourishing.

A shriek comes from downstairs. “Don’t you dare drop it!”

“Guess the turkey is done,” he says, fingers still pressed into my hip.

“Yeah,” I nod. “We should go back down before Twyler notices we’re both missing.”

His fingers reach out, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Thank you for making those for me.”

“Hey,” I let out a shaky laugh, “that’s what friends are for.”

I turn before he can respond, slipping downstairs to join the fray. Pete arrived with a girl he introduces as his sister, alongwith a few other guys on the team that I don’t know. I help Darla make room for the new food, and Jefferson makes a huge show of carving the turkey.

When Axel comes down the stairs, looking sexy and disheveled and not like he just kissed the crap out of me, I try not to bristle at Heather sidling up to him, loudly offering him a drink. He takes it, but I notice he doesn’t drink.