“Banana?”
“Sounds great.”
I sliced the other half on top of the second bowl as Finn hummed to himself, filling the rest of one glass with oatmilk and stirring it with a long spoon. The domesticity of it all was soothing. Instead of feeling mortified by my behavior last night, I felt… happy. Maybe a little mortified.
“Milk?” He turned and set the carton in front of me.
“Thanks.”
He carried the coffee over and we both sat at the counter. Finn poured milk over his cereal as I took a sip of coffee.
“Finn, this isperfect,” I moaned in delight before taking another sip. “You’re going to force me to keep making it this way instead.”
“That’s the plan,” he hitched a smile. His hair was slightly mussed from sleep, and there was something different about his posture. Less careful. More settled.
We ate breakfast in comfortable silence, morning light filtering through the window and dancing across the room. The space felt alive... more complete with him there. I pushed the thought into a corner of my brain and threw a blanket over it.
“So,” he said eventually, voice casual as he took our bowls to the sink and turned to me. “Do you want to talk about last night?”
Heat flooded my cheeks. Point, mortification. “It was a moment of weakness.”
“A really,reallygood moment of weakness,” his mouth curved into a smile that was pure trouble. “In fact, I’m thinkin’ we should have moments like that more often.”
“Finn,” I set down my coffee, my body buzzing to life.Traitor. “We probably shouldn’t…”
“Shouldn’t what?” He stepped back around to me, not crowding but close enough that I could smell cloves and the sleep that still clung to him. “Shouldn’t acknowledge that we both wanted it? Enjoyed it?”
“It’s… complicated.”
“Only if we make it complicated, Alexandra,” he reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, the gesture so natural and intimate that my breath caught.
My phone buzzed again on the counter.
Holly:Also, they want to know if Uncle Finn knows how to ballet.
“The twins want us to come to their dance recital tonight. Honestly, they probably only care if you show up at this point.”
“Try to not sound jealous,” he grinned. “What time would we need to leave?”
Something warm unfurled in my chest. “You don’t have to…”
“Alex,” his voice was gentle but firm. “I want to hang out with your family. I want to watch the girls dance. I want to be there for you.”
I studied his face. He looked genuinely interested.
“Okay,” I relented. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you when they want to know your favorite color and who you think is the best princess.”
“Blue. And Rapunzel, obviously.” He lifted his coffee in a mock toast, “to surviving the chaos machine.”
I clinked my glass against his. “To the chaos machine.”
I finished my coffee, kissed his cheek before I could stop myself, and got ready for my call with the animation studio thathad recently survived Titan’s acquisition move.
I turned in the mirror, making sure my light blue shirt dress looked right. The girls wouldn’t care, but I wanted Finn to. I found myself caring less in general what anyone else thought except him. Satisfied, I cinched it with a belt and picked up my leather tote bag.
Finn stood up from the sofa as I entered the living room. He was dressed in his dark jeans, white button down with rolled sleeves, and brown boots. His hair was down, parting naturally on the side, the layers dark and textured around his face.
“Your hair…” I reached out, grazing my fingers over the soft locks. “I might be a little bit jealous.”
