She hesitates, then nods toward the swinging door behind the counter. "I need to check something in the kitchen anyway."
I follow her through the door into a warm, flour-dusted space filled with the scent of baking bread and vanilla. She keeps her back to me, moving to a workstation where dough sits rising under a cloth.
"I'm sorry I left without saying goodbye," she says quietly, not turning around. "The shop opens at seven, and I needed to prep the morning pastries."
"It's okay," I say, though it isn't, not really. "But that's not why I'm here."
Her hands pause in their work, but she still doesn't look at me. "Why are you here, then?"
"Because I woke up and you were gone, and I couldn't stop thinking that you regretted everything," I admit, taking a step closer. "And I needed to see you."
She finally turns to face me, eyes meeting mine briefly before dropping away again. "I don't regret anything," she says softly. "But I... I understand if you do."
"Why would I regret anything about last night?"
Savannah wraps her arms around herself, a protective gesture that makes her look suddenly vulnerable. "Because it was impulsive. Because it started as pretend and got complicated. Because I was... convenient."
The last word hits me like a slap. As if she was just a warm body, an easy option, someone to scratch an itch with.
"Is that what you think?" I ask, my voice rougher than I intended. "That you wereconvenient?"
She shrugs, the gesture small and uncertain. "We've known each other for what, a day? Everything happened so fast. The faking,the kiss, the fire, and then..." She trails off, cheeks flushing. "People do things in the heat of the moment they don't always mean."
I take another step closer, close enough that I could touch her if I reached out. "What if I did mean it? All of it?"
Her eyes lift to mine, wariness and something that might be hope battling in her expression. "Logan..."
"I didn't panic because I regretted anything," I tell her, my voice low but steady. "I panicked because waking up alone made me think you did. That you'd realized it was a mistake."
"It wasn't a mistake," she says quietly. "At least, not for me."
Relief washes through me, loosening the tight knot that's been sitting in my chest since I woke. "Not for me either."
We stand there for a moment, the admission hanging between us like something fragile and new. Savannah's posture has softened slightly, her arms no longer wrapped quite so tightly around herself.
"I want you," I say simply. "Not as a fake girlfriend. Not as a temporary anything. You, Savannah Bailey."
Her breath catches audibly. "But we barely know each other."
"I know enough," I tell her. "I know you're kind. I know you care enough to run toward a burning building to make sure I was okay. I know you make the best cinnamon scones in three counties. I know you bite your lower lip when you're concentrating and tuck your hair behind your ear when you're nervous."
Her cheeks flush deeper, but she doesn't look away this time.
"I know I felt something from the second you held my hand," I continue. "And I know I'm not going anywhere unless you tell me to."
Savannah's eyes search mine, as if looking for the catch, the hint that I don't mean what I'm saying. "It's just... I've never had anyone choose me so quickly. So certainly," she admits, voice small. "I don't know what to do with that."
"You don't have to do anything," I tell her. "Just... don't run away."
She exhales slowly, some of the tension visibly leaving her shoulders. "I'm not running," she says. "I was just... scared."
"Of what?"
"That this was one-sided. That I was reading too much into everything. That you'd wake up and wish you hadn't blurred the lines between fake and real." The words tumble out quickly, like she's been holding them back.
I reach out slowly, giving her time to pull away if she wants to. When she doesn't, my hand cups her cheek, thumb brushing away a smudge of flour. She leans into my touch, eyes fluttering closed briefly, the gesture so unconsciously trusting it makes my chest tight.
"Nothing about this feels fake anymore," I tell her softly.
