Page 6

EVE

The bell jingled as I stepped inside, the familiar scent of coffee and fryer grease curling around me. Sunlight sliced through the blinds in uneven stripes across the worn booths and scuffed floors.

The place hadn’t changed, but it felt different today.

Orion’s presence loomed at my back—constant, unmistakable. Did this place look as tired to him as it suddenly did to me? Did he see the care buried beneath all of the wear and tear?

I shook off the thoughts and headed toward the counter, where Louise and Carrie were chatting over a fresh pot of coffee. Louise’s bright smile turned sharp as soon as she spotted me, arms already outstretched.

“Eve!” Louise’s voice rang out, warm and chipper. “How’d you sleep, sweetheart?” Then her eyes narrowed, her brow furrowing. “Hmm… you don’t look like you slept much at all. You okay?”

“Louise—”

“And who’s this?” she asked, her tone dripping with curiosity as they landed on Orion, then flicked back to mine.

“My name’s Orion,” he said, extending his hand. His voice was smooth, calm, and utterly unbothered. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Louise took his hand with a grin, but it was Carrie behind the counter who looked like she might melt into a puddle.

“Hello,” she breathed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Irritation flared—sharp, sudden. Possessiveness? Maybe. I shoved the feeling down. I had no right to it. Orion, of course, was all polite smiles, though I caught a flicker of amusement when he looked my way.

“So,” Louise said, her gaze bouncing between Orion and me with laser focus. “How did you guys meet?”

“Uh… We bumped into each other—”

“She almost crashed her car into mine,” Orion cut in smoothly.

My head snapped toward him. “Really?” I hissed under my breath.

Louise gasped, her hands flying to her chest. “Crashed?! Eve Andrews, what is he talking about?”

“It wasn’t that bad,” I said quickly, holding up my hands in defense. Louise’s frown deepened, her eyes searching my face like she didn’t quite believe me. “I had a little… accident. My car went off the road, but I’m fine. Really. Orion had been driving by and stopped to help.”

I shot him a glare, silently willing him not to add anything else to embarrass me. The gleam in his eyes didn’t fill me with hope, but instead, he surprised me.

“I called a tow company this morning.” Orion smiled, his expression calm and steady. “Should hear from them later today.”

“Thank you. See? Everything’s under control,” I added, trying to sound breezy even as Louise’s worry threatened to smother me.

Louise’s shoulders sagged a little, but her frown didn’t fully fade. “As long as you’re okay…”

“I am,” I insisted, offering her what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “Promise. And I’m good to work today, so don’t even think about asking me to take the day off.”

Louise’s frown deepened, the kind that said, “I know there’s more you’re not telling me. Call it a mother’s intuition, but I’m going to let it go for now. If you do feel like you need the day off—”

“Louise,” I interrupted, spinning on my heel. “I’m just going to set up in the kitchen.”

“Do you mind if I stick around for a bit? I’ve got some work to do, and it seems quiet enough here.”

I froze in my tracks, glancing over my shoulder just in time to see Louise’s expression shift from mild worry to full-on delight. “Oh, of course! And please, call me Louise,” she said, waving a hand toward the dining room. “So, what kind of work do you do, exactly?”

Orion let himself be steered toward an empty booth, smiling like he belonged there. Carrie, who was hovering behind the counter, let out a dreamy sigh that made my stomach twist.

“I wonder if he’s single,” she mused. I pressed my lips together to hold back a sour remark and ducked through the swinging doors.

The kitchen was a patchwork of eras, the kind of space where every corner told a story.

Stainless steel counters lined the walls, their surfaces worn to a dull shine from years of use.

The fryer hissed and popped next to the heavy-duty mixer, its once-bright red paint chipped by my own fingernails over the years to reveal patches of steel beneath.

The smell of grease and pepper hung in the air, mixing with the faint tang of industrial-strength cleaner.

It was cramped, hot, and a little chaotic.

It was my home.

“Morning, Eve!” Sam’s voice rang out the moment he saw me, as bright and unapologetic as the fluorescent lights overhead. He was already at the prep counter, sniffling slightly as he sliced through a mound of onions.

“Good morning,” I replied, grabbing my apron and setting up in front of the empty prep station.

Sam froze mid-slice, his knife hovering over the cutting board as he stared at me in mock disbelief. “Wait, did you just say good morning? Who are you, and what have you done with the real Eve?”

I rolled my eyes, stepping past him to grab a towel from the rack. “ Ha ha . Very funny.”

“No, seriously,” he said, setting the knife down and closing the distance between us. I dodged his attempt to check my temperature, which only resulted in his laughter. “That early night must’ve worked wonders.”

I shrugged, turning toward the fridge to start on the burger patties. “Something like that.”

“Well, while you were catching up on your beauty sleep,” Sam continued, gesturing wildly with his knife like it was an extension of his hand, “you missed one hell of a bonfire last night. Perfect weather for it, too. I happen to make the best s’mores this side of the Mississippi, and now you’ll never know. ”

I smirked, glancing over my shoulder at him. “Guess I’ll have to take your word for it.”

“You should,” he said, wagging the knife at me before setting it back down. “Hey, speaking of stuff you missed out on—we’ve got a big D&D night coming up. You should join us. I could take you out for some food after? Save you having to cook for a change.”

I turned back to the prep table, pretending to focus on shaping the mince just right as I mulled over how to respond—a way to turn him down without ruining the easy dynamic we’d built.

A sudden clunk cut through the kitchen, followed by an unsettling sputter. Both Sam and I turned toward the griddle, which let out a groaning hiss before falling silent. The faint, acrid scent of overheated metal lingered in the air.

“It’s been doing this all morning,” Sam grumbled dramatically, gesturing at the appliance that had personally offended him. “I can’t figure out how to get it to work.”

“It’s just old,” I said, crouching to inspect it. The fitting was loose, barely aligned with the pipe. “Ah-ha. Valve’s shifted—gas isn’t flowing right. Can you hit the ignition while I hold it?”

“Are you sure about this?” Sam asked, frowning as he picked up the toolkit. “This thing’s temperamental, Eve. What if—”

“It’ll be fine,” I cut in, gripping the valve with both hands to steady it. I braced myself against the wall, the tension in my shoulders making my ribs ache faintly. “Okay. You can turn it on.”

“You’re sure about this?” Sam hesitated, his hand hovering over the ignition.

“Sam,” I said, glancing back at him. “Just do it.”

He swallowed hard but nodded, his hand finally twisting the switch. A low hiss filled the air as gas flowed freely again, and then—

Whoosh .

A burst of fire shot out from the griddle, heat licking up my arms and face. I flinched back instinctively, falling onto the floor, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest.

Then, the hissing stopped and the griddle roared to life, its flame steady and glowing like nothing had happened.

“Shit, Eve!” Sam scrambled toward me, his wide eyes darting between my face and the now-working appliance. “Are you okay? That flame—hell, it hit you.”

“I—” My voice caught in my throat as I looked at my hands. I felt the heat, I should’ve felt the pain. But there wasn’t even a blister. Just this creeping feeling that something inside me had shifted. Something I didn’t understand.

“That’s weird,” I muttered, more to myself than Sam’s benefit.

The swinging door snapped open, and Orion’s broad frame filled the doorway, Louise hot on his heels.

“Is everything alright?” His green eyes locked onto mine, his gaze sharp and unwavering as he strode toward me, offering me a hand.

“All good,” I said quickly, pulling myself to my feet and brushing at my apron as heat rushed to my face. “The grill’s working now.”

His gaze lingered on my arms a second too long, like he didn’t quite buy the act. But he didn’t press.

Louise pushed past Orion a moment later, her sharp tone cutting through the lingering haze of heat. “That thing is a death trap. I’m calling someone to look at it—today.”

She gave me a once-over, reassuring herself that I was in one piece before marching toward her office, muttering about health and safety violations under her breath.

I took a deep breath, trying to collect my thoughts as Orion continued to look me over. But we weren’t exactly alone.

“Customers aren’t allowed in the kitchen, buddy.” Sam’s usually playful tone had taken on a new edge as he surveyed Orion. His jaw ticked, and he nodded slowly, stepping back toward the door.

“I’ll be out here,” he said. “Just let me know if you plan to burn the place down, yeah? Give us customers a fair chance to get out of the building first.”

I glared at him, but he just winked before disappearing through the swinging doors.

Sam, meanwhile, was still staring at me, his brows furrowed as he spun me to face him. “Eve, seriously, are you sure—?”

“I’m alright.” I was getting really tired of repeating that phrase, but no one seemed to believe me. I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I’m sorry. I just… I need a minute.”

Sam nodded slowly, stepping back toward his prep station.

I took a deep breath and tried to throw myself into my work. Maybe if I focused on the work, on the rhythm of the kitchen, on the heat that didn’t burn—I could forget how close I was to falling apart.