Page 64 of At First Spark
“I’ve got it.”
A pause, then, quieter—
“You don’t have to prove you can do everything the hard way.”
Her grip tightens. That moment where control slips just enough to turn into something else.
I step in.
“Give me that.”
“Don’t.”
“Lark.”
“I said I’ve—”
I take the pry bar from her anyway. Her fingers brush mine as I pull it free, and the contact lands more sensually than it should, like it carries something from last night with it that neither of us has addressed.
I don’t linger on that thought. Instead, I angle the tool, adjust my stance, and apply pressure.
The board lifts clean. No crack. No split.
“You see that,” Nolan says.
I don’t look at him, but at her only to find she’s watching me with a shift in her expression.
Whatever moment we share is shattered when Nolan’s phone rings. The door shuts behind him with a heavier sound than it should. Like whatever he stepped out to handle wasn’t something he wanted us to hear.
The second it shuts, the air changes. It always does between us. Like something releases or tightens. I’m not sure which.
Lark stands slowly as I straighten.
We’re too close again. The hallway doesn’t leave room for anything else.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she says.
“Yes, I did.”
“I could’ve handled it.”
“I know you think that.”
Her jaw tightens.
“I don’t need you stepping in every time something doesn’t go perfectly.”
“And I don’t need to watch you make it harder than necessary.”
Her breath shifts.
“You don’t get to decide that.”
“No,” I say.
I take a step closer, so I’m now in her space. Now she feels it.
“But I get to say something when I see it.”
