I’m walking six inches off the ground as we step back inside. Her hand’s still in mine, and I have no plans of letting go. Ever.
The kitchen’s dark except for the soft spill of early light from the windows, and for the first time in what feels like days, there’s room to breathe.
“You, uh…” I clear my throat, trying to keep my voice level. “You hungry? Because I feel like I should feed you after that. Or maybe myself. Definitely both of us.”
She laughs—actuallylaughs—and it’s like somebody just cracked the sun in half and poured it straight into my chest.
“Are you saying kissing me was exhausting?” she teases, one brow raised.
“Oh, it waslife-changing,sweetheart,” I say, already scanning the pantry. “Which is why we need pancakes. Big, sugary, holy-shit-we’re-alive pancakes.”
Her lips part like she might argue, but then—she smiles. Soft and a little stunned.
“Holy shit we’re alive pancakes?” she echoes, like she’s trying the phrase on.
“The best kind,” I confirm. “Fluffy and unnecessary and completely worth it.”
I start pulling ingredients—flour, eggs, Rhett’s secret vanilla stash—and Bree moves to the counter, watching with something like fond amusement as I attempt my one true domestic skill with one hand. Because again:not letting go.
She doesn’t stop me. Doesn’t tease. Just… leans, warm andhere, her eyes brighter than they were when we left the backyard.
I could live in this moment forever.
Footsteps creak on the stairs. I glance up as Wes walks in, hair a mess, hoodie swallowing his whole frame.
“Morning,” he says, blinking like he’s still trying to decide if we’re real.
“Couldn’t sleep,” Bree says easily.
“So,” I add, flipping the first pancake, “we’re making holy-shit-we’re-alive pancakes.”
Wes raises an eyebrow. “Is that a formal breakfast category now?”
“The most important one,” I say, mock-serious. “Perfect for post-revelation, pre-sanctuary survival prep.”
Gray’s next, silent and observant, followed by Rhett and Theo. One by one, they fill the kitchen like puzzle pieces falling into place. Bree straightens a little under their gaze, but she doesn’t move away from me.
Theo’s the one who notices first. His gaze shifts—me, Bree, our joined hands, back to Bree’s face—and he tilts his head, saying nothing.
Wes watches Bree for a beat too long. “Something’s different,” he says slowly. “Did we miss a moment?”
“Nope,” I say, too fast.
“Definitely feels like a moment,” Rhett murmurs.
Bree makes the smallest noise—somewhere between a laugh and a threat—and reaches for the coffee instead of defending herself.
I grin, unable to help it. “What can I say? I never kiss and tell.”
The roomfreezesfor half a second.
Then Bree flushes scarlet. Full-body embarrassment. And that alone might be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
She doesn’t deny it. Doesn’t deflect. Just sips her coffee with extreme focus while the others collectivelythink very hard.
No teasing. No jokes. Just… awareness.
And then the final beat lands.
