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“The milk should be cooled enough for her to drink, but here,” I say, holding out my hand for him to hand me the cup.

“I usually check by pouring a little out on the inside of my wrist, just in case.” I tilt the cup carefully, showing him.

He watches intently as if absorbing all of my movements.

I feel the warm milk on my skin, and it’s the perfect temperature.

I bring my wrist to my mouth, licking off the few drops of milk.

Looking up, I find Jack’s eyes still on me, but there’s a new darkness to his gaze, one that warms my cheeks—but not in embarrassment.

Evee slaps her hands on her high chair tray, reminding me of where we are and what we’re doing—testing milk temperature for my daughter in the middle of my kitchen—so I hold the cup out to Jack.

“Here,” I say quickly—maybe a little too quickly if Ava’s snort is anything to go by.

“It’s perfect, and the lids for the hot cups are pretty sturdy.

” The words string together in such a jumbled mess, I wouldn’t be surprised if he couldn’t tell what I said.

With my arm held out to him, holding the cup, Jack seems to come back to himself, remembering our audience. He reaches out, but he doesn’t say anything.

“You can give it to her,” I reassure as he takes the cup from me, and his features go back to how they were before—the moment between us over just as quickly as it began.

Watching Jack now, that slight discomfort is back, like he doesn’t exactly know what to do. He carefully sets the coffee cup of milk on the tray, but he doesn’t let go.

With something new in front of her, Evee looks up to see who the source is.

Her big blue eyes are wide, her mouth open, putting her two front teeth on full display.

She looks down back at the cup, but instead of trying to grab it, she grabs Jack’s hand, her fingers wrapping around two of his before bouncing her arms like he’s her new toy.

“I should’ve warned you that she’s an extrovert—no idea where she got that from,” I say with a laugh.

Evee has always been a happy baby who welcomes new people with a smile on her face.

She’s such a curious girl, and she never fails to make a new friend wherever we go—whether it’s waving to everyone she sees at the grocery store, or giving that mostly-toothless grin to the regulars at Hey Honey’s who come in more for her than the coffee.

She’s nothing like her introverted mother.

“Probably me,” Ava says, grabbing her coffee. “Now, if you two would excuse me, I am headed to my workout class. With Jack’s help, I trust that you can handle the muffins without setting our house on fire.”

I narrow my eyes at my best friend as she walks backwards down the hallway to put her sneakers on.

“Love you, bye!” she says with a wave, stepping into her shoes and heading straight out the front where our door is supposed to be. “Bye, Jack!” she adds.

Jack’s head snaps up in her direction, as if hearing her yell his name brought him out of a daze he was in. “Bye, Ava,” he says, giving her a small nod before his gaze goes back down to Evee who has started putting her spit-covered, no-longer-dry cereal in his hand.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I say, readying to grab Evee’s wrist and wipe off her hands.

“I don’t mind,” he says, looking at me. “I’m fine here.”

I want to clarify that he doesn’t need to be polite and stand there as my daughter puts cereal in her mouth before putting it in his opened hand, but watching him watch her is enough to keep me quiet. I lean back on the counter behind me, taking a sip of my chai.

We both stand there watching her for a few moments, the silence comfortable rather than awkward or loaded. “She likes you,” I say, remembering how she also instantly grabbed his hand that night at Lenny’s.

“I’m not good with babies,” he admits, his eyes still on Evee, a look of awe lining his features as he watches her finally let go of his hand, remembering the cup he sat down in front of her and grabbing it with both hands.

The way he’s so timid around her is such a difference to the strong presence he carries.

“Well, you could’ve fooled me,” I say, and I don’t think I’ll ever get him looking down at her out of my head—the image going straight to my ovaries.

Jack’s green eyes find mine, and there’s something familiar about them. Maybe it’s because I’ve seen them a lot these last few days, or maybe it’s because I can’t help but think of them long after he’s gone, but I don’t think I’ll get sick of looking at them.

He holds up his hand. “I’m just gonna rinse the cereal off.”

I slide over from where I’m leaning on the counter, giving him a clear path to the sink. “You know,” I start, “she doesn’t share her cereal with just anyone.”

“I’m honored to be one of the few,” he says, turning on the sink and letting the water wash off the cereal remnants.

I take another sip of my iced chai. “You don’t remember spending time with your sister as a baby?” I ask, not sure exactly where the question comes from, but there’s something about how nervous he is around Evee that makes me want to make him feel more comfortable.

“I was eight when she was born, and I tried to pretend she didn’t exist when they brought her home because I wanted a baby brother, not a sister,” he explains, turning off the sink and drying his hands on the towel hanging on the oven. “I probably held her a few times, but I don’t really remember.”

I nod, thinking of more questions to ask, so I can keep listening to his voice. “Is she your only sibling?”

“Yeah, it’s just me and Emerson,” he answers, leaning back on the counter next to me, matching my pose. “What about you? Any brothers or sisters?” He looks down at me, his gaze going from my eyes to my lips so quickly, I think I imagined it.

I shake my head, not only to answer his question but to shake away the ridiculous thought. “Just me.”

“Did you grow up around here?” he asks, keeping the conversation going. I know he’s here to fix the door, but I can’t ignore the butterflies in my belly at the thought of him wanting to get to know me, the same way I want to get to know him.

As a friend , I remind myself.

“No, I’m originally from Minneapolis,” I say. “I moved here last year after my accident.”

He says something else, but it doesn’t register. I’m too busy watching his hands come to the top of the counter behind him, causing his muscles to strain against his T-shirt. I can’t help the way my eyes move down his arms to where his hands hold the edge.

“Rumi?” I hear, and I shake my head again before looking back up at him.

“Sorry, what did you say?” I find a knowing smirk on his face, but I’m thankful he doesn’t comment on the way I was just drooling over his arms like a dog.

“I asked what brought you here,” he reiterates.

“It’s a funny story actually, “ I say, a dry laugh escaping. “Funny” is a relative term—a more appropriate descriptor of the story would be depressing, so I make sure to leave some of the more personal details out. “One of my nurses from the accident was actually Ava’s younger sister who lives an hour north from here. She’s the one who introduced me to Ava who was looking for a roommate. ”

“You and Ava have only known each other for a year?” Jack asks, and I can’t help but notice the surprise in his tone.

“Yeah, Evee and I moved here after staying at the hospital for a few weeks to recover from the injuries from the accident and bef—” I stop myself, not wanting the conversation to go in that direction.

At the thought of “before”, what pushed me to finally leave, it’s like all the air in my lungs is stolen, like I was punched in the stomach.

My mind revisits that night every so often, how different it was from nights before, how it finally showed me I had to get out of that house.

It’s not that I’m ashamed of my past, but there are parts of it that are hard to admit, especially to someone I’m only starting to get to know. I’m not ready to share those chapters of my story.

Yet.

But the way Jack listens to me, it feels like I’ve known him much longer than a few days—like he knows parts of me that I don’t always show at first.

Or even ever.

It’s exciting yet confusing the way his attention makes me feel like I’m basking in the sun rather than hiding in the shade.

Ava always would remind me how not everyone—specifically every man—out there is like my father or Trevor, but I haven’t let myself really get to know anyone to see if she was right.

And here’s Jack, someone so kind and thoughtful, someone my daughter took an instant liking to, someone who makes me comfortable to be myself rather than the version I think he wants me to be.

Maybe Ava was right.

But maybe it’s too soon to tell.

I can’t let what happened with Trevor happen again.

“My injuries from the accident,” I say before quickly adding, “living, working, and basically raising a newborn together brought us together super fast. I feel like I’ve known her my whole life.”

If Jack caught on to my slight slip-up with my story or where my mind went for a brief moment, he doesn’t show it.

Instead, he affirms, “I’m glad you had someone there for you after your accident.

” There’s a softness to his eyes as he says it.

He watches me carefully, his eyes roaming my face for a moment, and I stay silent, waiting to see what he says—or does—next.

Then I hear the sound of an empty cardboard cup hitting the floor and my daughter half-crying half-wailing. It’s the sound she makes since she can’t say, I want to get out of this stupid chair, Mom .

“I better get to that door,” Jack quickly says, turning and heading toward the front of the house at the same time I say, “Sorry!”

I pick up Evee, holding her in my arms, reality settling back in.