Page 35 of Rook
His mouth twitched. “I’ll stay. Make sure you don’t burn the place down.”
She narrowed her eyes. “You’re enjoying this.”
“A little.”
She grabbed a new bowl, trying not to smile. “Fine. But if this one explodes, it’s your fault.”
He leaned against the counter, watching her with an expression she couldn’t read, something held tight behind his eyes.
“Deal,” he said.
And as she measured flour, as he quietly corrected her grip on the whisk, as their shoulders brushed again and again, Avery felt something she hadn’t felt in years.
Hope.
And something else, too.
Something warm. Something dangerous. Something sweet.
They remembered who they were.
And neither of them knew what to do with it.
Chapter 10
Avery
The muffins looked… edible.
Barely.
Avery set the tray on the counter, exhaling a shaky breath. The kitchen still smelled faintly of burnt batter and cleaning spray, but at least the oven wasn’t trying to kill her anymore. She and Noah had spent nearly an hour cleaning up the chaos she’d created: flour clouds, sticky batter splatters, a bowl that had somehow ricocheted off three surfaces before hitting the floor.
They’d laughed. They’d touched. They’d remembered.
And now she was standing here, staring at a tray of lumpy muffins, trying not to think about the wayNoah’s hand had brushed hers or how close he’d stood behind her when he’d shown her how to adjust the oven’s rusty temperature gauge.
She picked up one muffin, turning it over. “Well… they’re not exploding. That’s progress.”
Behind her, Noah huffed a quiet laugh. “Low bar, Aves.”
She rolled her eyes, but her heart fluttered anyway. “You want to try one?”
He hesitated, just long enough for her stomach to twist, then stepped closer. “Yeah. Sure.”
She handed him a muffin. Their fingers brushed again, and the spark that shot up her arm was immediate and unwelcome and way too familiar. He still smelled faintly of cold air and leather, like the moment he’d stepped between her and that stranger.
He took a bite. Chewed. Swallowed. Raised an eyebrow. “It’s… not terrible.”
Avery gasped. “High praise.”
He smirked. “Don’t get cocky.”
She nudged him with her shoulder. “Don’t act like you’re the expert.”
“Someone has to be.” The words were light, teasing, but the air between them wasn’t. It was thick, warm, and charged with something neither of them wanted to name.
Noah set the muffin down, leaning back against the counter. “Why’d you come back, Aves?”
