Inside the doorway, the scent of waffles, eggs, and sausage wraps around me. Orán is close behind, his presence filling the space in a way that makes the house feel significantly smaller.
Inhaling deeply, he says, “Wow. It smells amazing in here.”
Lila, wearing a striped blue-and-white apron, plates two more waffles as she calls out, “I hope you’re hungry. I made enough to feed a horse.” She grins wickedly. “Get it, Horseman?”
He chuckles. “Yes, uh… I got it.”
“Lila is a wonderful cook. I’m lucky to have her around. Before she arrived, I mostly lived off vegetables and venison. Now, I have to be rolled out of the kitchen afterward.”
“Oh, you do not. You never gain a pound.”
I palm my own belly. “But I feel it. If my body didn’t metabolize like an immortal, I’d be forty pounds heavier.”
“And still just as beautiful.”
My head turns slowly.
He’s watching me—smiling, full wattage.
I nearly roll my eyes, but that would be more of a Lila thing to do. Instead, I cross my arms, suddenly aware of how close we stand to one another and the uncomfortable silence. My gaze pings from Lila to him and back again.
Lila tries, and fails, to stifle a laugh.
Spinning on my heel to get out of whatever this is, I leave and call out. “I’ll go get you some things so you can wash up.”
Their low murmurs follow me as I dig through my closets, pulling out some spare clothing, a towel, soap, a spare toothbrush, and toothpaste.
When I return, I dump the items into Orán’s arms, getting my own enjoyment from catching him off guard. “I found some clothes that should fit you. Best to get cleaned up before breakfast. It’ll be a few minutes. Right, Lila?”
“Actually—” I cut her a look, and she coughs. “Yes. About ten minutes or so, I’d say. But there’s no rush. Take your time.”
Orán looks at her, then back at me. “Alright.”
He leaves, and the minute he’s out the door, I scold Lila. “Don’t encourage him.”
“Why ever not?”
“Just… because. There’s a mountain of things we stand opposed on, and I’m not ready to even consider letting him back into my bed. I only did that so I could bind his powers.”
Lila plates the eggs, not even looking at me. “Uh-huh. Is that what you’re trying to convince yourself of?”
“Oh, shush.”
“I’m just sayin’. The chemistry is practically visible. There’s steam rising, and it’s not coming from the kitchen. It’s coming off the two of you every time you stand within a foot of each other.”
A laugh bursts out of me. “There is not.”
“Okayyy.” She drags it out, lips twitching. “If you say so.”
“I do.”
When Orán returns, the table is set, and Lila has piled his plate high enough that there’s no hope of him finishing it.
He’s in an off-white Henley and grey jeans, both fitted enough to trace the lines of his shoulders and chest. He smells faintly of pine, which disturbs my equilibrium a bit, though I know it shouldn’t. His long hair is combed back, still damp, and droplets are slipping down to darken the fabric at his collar.
“This looks amazing, Lila. Thank you.” He takes the seat I direct him to, which is next to me and across from Lila. She grins at him like this is all one great conspiracy, and the side of his mouth lifts in answer.
“It’s no problem. I love doing it. It keeps my mind off…other things.”
