“You’re really scared of him, aren’t you?”
His own amusement had a telling quiver in it. “Never could get myself to like those things. Don’t tell Sadie I said that. Or that I’m scared shitless it’s gonna pounce at me from between the towels.”
Our arms brushed as I bent down to check one of the lower shelves, then I quickly straightened back up and turned to him. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep you safe if it does.”
His eyes went wide. There was a brief pause as the air between us seemed to tighten, heavier than the closet walls themselves. He shifted back instinctively, but the movement was minimal in the given space. Still close enough that I felt the heat of him. I couldn’t deny the spark of something. As ludicrous as that was.
He was my boss.
I was very freshly out of a break up.
And no, it didn’t matter how hot he was.
His posture stiffened as his gaze moved over the shelves. “If that thing’s in here, you have to promise you won’t judge me when I scream.”
I smiled, lowering my voice. “I told you… I’ll keep you safe.”
His eyes fell on the shelf behind me, and he gripped my waist. A jolt of electricity thrummed beneath my skin, and despite my silent lecture to myself, I instantly knew I was in trouble.
“What was that?” Ethan asked, blissfully unaware of the effect he was having on me.
“I— I didn’t feel anything.” A slight frown creased his brow as he glanced at me, and I realized my mistake. My face flushed with warmth as I hurried to save myself from further humiliation. “See. I mean… I didn’t see anything.”
A flash of fire streaked behind his eyes, unmistakable in the pools of blueish-gray. His hand was still on my waist for some reason. And for some reason, his head dipped a little lower. The dark, bitter coffee on his breath curled up my nose and made my mouth water. But not for the taste of coffee.
Then a piercing scream echoed from the kitchen—Sadie, or Emma, or both—and the moment shattered like glass. Ethan’s expression snapped back into urgent mode, and I followed his lead, abandoning the towels and stepping toward the hall, heart still racing.
We barreled into the kitchen, expecting to meet with a massacre. It was worse. We’d rushed into the moment before a massacre was about to happen. Adrian crouched low, broom in hand, eyes wide with a kind of wild determination.
“Don’t kill him! Don’t kill him!” Sadie screamed, waving her arms, nearly knocking over a chair.
I froze just long enough to take in the chaos: the broom ready to swing with a death blow, the girls flailing in alarm, and Miles’ urgent voice into his phone, “Animal control—yes, yes, we need someone right away—”
“You don’t call animal control for a newt, Miles!” Adrian barked, pointing his broom at the counter like a general commanding a charge. “It’s a newt!”
The room spun with early-morning pandemonium. Or maybe I was still coming down from my linen closet encounter with Ethan. Either way, I was buzzing. I stepped forward, hands raised, and let my voice cut through the noise.
“Okay! Everyone, out! Now! All of you!”
The yelling stopped (more from shock than obedience), and one by one, they left the kitchen. Until it was just Sadie and me.
With the room clear, I knelt beside her and rubbed her trembling arms. “See? I told you we’d find him. Look…” I plucked the newt from the wall and cradled him in my flat palm. “He doesn’t even look hurt. Probably the bravest newt I know.”
Sadie sniffled, clutching my sleeve like it was a lifeline. Her lips moved soundlessly as she counted what I assumed were his feet, because she stopped at four.
“Can I take him?” She smiled up at me, wiggling her little fingers in anticipation.
“Sure, you can.”
Sadie hesitated only a second before cupping Winston with hands that were surprisingly careful for a five-year-old. I watched her closely: how her fingers didn’t squeeze, how she kept him close but free, how her expression softened with awe instead of fear.
“You’re very good with him,” I murmured.
Sadie’s eyes widened a little at the praise, but she didn’t release her gentle grip. I smiled, stepping beside her. “I think he likes you.”
Her lip quivered, and she shook her head. “I love him. I don’t want him to get lost again.”
I knelt closer, letting my voice drop a little lower, calm but firm. “I know. But Winston has a family. Other newts who are waiting for him. They miss him. Just like we miss our friends when we leave. Like you miss your mom and dad. Don’t you think we should help him get back home?”
