“Just odd,” she clarifies, opening one stainless-steel door. “What exactly is this?”
She pulls out a glass mason jar, and I bite back a groan.Shit. I thought I’d hidden it better.
“It’s nothing.”
“Mindy said it’s sourdough starter.”
I shrug, trying for casual and probably landing somewhere closer to guilty teenager caught sneaking out of his girlfriend’s bedroom window. “Maybe Sadie left it up here.”
Piper rolls her eyes. “My sister doesn’t bake sourdough, and Mindy said it’s been fed recently, whatever that means.”
Busted.
“Felix, are you a bread baker?”
“You don’t have to make it sound like you discovered my porn stash.” Honestly, that would have been less embarrassing at this point.
“Nice deflection. Sourdough,” she says again, and there’s something in her voice I can’t quite place. Possibly amusement,but maybe respect? “You have to order meals, but you bake fresh bread?”
“My deep dark secret is out.” I stalk forward and grab the jar from her hands, trying not to notice how soft her fingers are when they brush mine. Trying not to remember how they felt on my skin that night in Denver. “I like to bake bread. It’s a hobby, obviously. I have a regular job.”
“Yes. NFL wide receiver. I’m well aware.” She’s fighting a smile now, and it’s doing dangerous things to my self-control.
“I started after Ronnie and I broke up last summer,” I admit, not sure why I’m telling her this. Maybe because I’ve completely lost control of this conversation—and my mind, where Piper is concerned. Maybe because I don’t want to keep secrets from her. “I needed something to do with my hands that wasn’t throwing things or punching walls.”
“So you punch dough instead?”
“Kneading isn’t the same as punching. The truth is, it’s wildly therapeutic.” I set the jar back in the fridge, then pick up a kitchen towel from the counter, suddenly very interested in the fingerprints marring the shiny stainless steel. “I like the science of it. Feeding the starter, watching it grow, waiting for the perfect rise. Everything in my life is fast and violent, but bread takes time. Patience. It’s good for my mental health, you know?”
When I finally look up, she’s staring at me like she’s never seen me before.
“What?”
“Nothing. Just...” She shakes her head, smiling in a way that makes my stomach do loop-de-loops “You’re full of surprises, Felix Barlowe.”
“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” I warn, but there’s no heat in the words. “And if you tell anyone?—”
“Your secret’s safe with me.” Her smile widens, hitting me square in the chest. “Add it to the list.”
Right. The list of secrets we’re keeping. Ellie. That night inDenver. Whatever this thing is that’s building between us, despite our best efforts to ignore it. I should step back and create distance between us. Go take a cold shower. Do literally anything except stand here staring at her like a lovesick idiot.
“I should check on Ellie,” she says, but she doesn’t move.
“She’s sleeping.”
“Right.”
Neither of us moves.
“Piper—”
“Don’t,” she says softly. “Whatever you’re about to say, don’t. We agreed this was a bad idea.”
“The worst,” I confirm, taking a step closer despite myself. “Terrible judgment all around.”
“Your brother would kill you.”
“Probably.” Another step. “Ian’s got a mean right hook.”
