He met my eyes, no smile this time. “It means something to me, and maybe someday, it will mean something to you.”
For a second, I forgot how to breathe. “Is it something to do with me?”
“Don’t make it sound like I branded myself,” he interrupted lightly, but there was something underneath—something raw. “It was just… a reminder. Of a few months that got complicated.”
I couldn’t think of a single thing to say. The silence stretched, full and heavy and too damn intimate. His gaze didn’t move from mine. His eyes remained steady and unflinching, and I swear the air between us grew hotter by the second.
Then Lydia appeared beside me, setting down a tray of syrup bottles and muttering under her breath, “Good grief, I can feel the temperature rising from over there. Are you two trying to melt the snow outside?”
I tore my gaze away, cheeks blazing. “Just talking.”
“Uh-huh,” she said. “Looks like you’re about to set the pancakes on fire.”
Drew didn’t even flinch. “Wouldn’t be the first time,” he said, voice low enough that only I heard it.
Lydia snorted, shaking her head and walking away, muttering something aboutsexual tension and syrup hazards.
I folded my arms, trying to find my footing again. “You realize you’re impossible.”
“Pretty sure you’ve mentioned that.”
“I meant it.”
“You always do.”
“And yet, somehow you keep proving me right.”
He chuckled, pouring another perfect gingerbread man onto the griddle. “Maybe you just like being right about me.”
“I don’t like anything about you.”
He looked up, green eyes gleaming. “Then why are you staring again?”
“I’m not.”
“Sure.”
“I was looking at the…at thepancakes.”
He nodded seriously. “Of course. My arms and the pancakes are easily confused. Happens all the time.”
I glared. “You’re impossible.”
“That’s three times today. Starting to sound like a term of endearment.”
“It’s not.”
“Feels like one.”
“Then your feelings are broken.”
He grinned. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
That stopped me cold. His tone wasn’t teasing that time. It was quiet, sincere, and something softer under the armor.
And that, God help me, was what did me in. Because underneath all his sarcasm, there was thisrealnessI couldn’t ignore. The kind that made me want to step closer instead of run away.
So I did. Just half a step.
