It’s good. Rich and decadent. Almost perfect.
I discard my licked spoon into the sink, reaching for the bourbon to pour another measure.
“Let’s maybe not get too reckless with that,” Alex coaches. “We want finesse here.”
I glance over my shoulder at him, eyebrows lifting. “Thisisfinesse. We agreed I could have fun with this part, remember? It’s all about the vibes.”
He exhales through his nose, obviously unimpressed. “I trust precision, Taylor. Not vibes.”
I roll my eyes, grab a clean spoon, and dip it into the sauce before pivoting toward him, holding it out between us. “Then verify.”
He freezes. He’s so still it’s like staring at a painting. I’m not even sure he’s breathing at this point because how does someone breathe without moving at all?
His eyes flick from the spoon to my face, back again. For a second, I think he’s going to refuse on principle alone. But then he steps closer, jaw ticking as he leans in and opens his mouth.
He doesn’t rush the moment.
His tongue slides in a slow drag along the curve of the metal before his lips close around the edge.
Something low and unfamiliar twists in my stomach, my body reacting before my brain can make sense of it.
Alex swallows, expression carefully neutral, but his eyes have gone darker. “Okay,” he says quietly. “That’s… really fucking good.”
Everything is in slow motion, and I blink slowly, momentarily forgetting how to breathe. “Yeah?”
He takes the spoon from me, his fingers brushing mine. “Yeah. Just, uh…” He clears his throat. “Don’t add any more.”
I nod, turning back to the stove before he can see the blush creeping up my neck, across my cheeks.
Because watching himlickthe spoon was not something I was prepared for. And my response is definitely not something I’m ready to unpack on a reality baking show.
When time is called, Alex and I step back from our presentation to assess our work. It genuinely looks beautiful, like it jumped off the pages ofSouthern Livingmagazine.
“We make a good team,” Alex says, bumping his elbow into mine like he’s daring me to look at him.
I glance down at the spot where his arm touched mine—still tingling from the contact—then back up to his face. He’s already watching me, that familiar, arrogant smirk in place.
“Careful there, Alex.” I waggle my eyebrows, smiling. “I’m starting to think you might actuallylikeworking with me.”
Our gazes hold for longer than they need to as something shifts further between us. His smirk softens, giving way to a real smile. It’s wide and bright enough that it steals the air from my lungs.
Garrett claps loudly at the front of the room, snapping us back to attention. We immediately face forward, focusing on the judges. Alex’s arm brushes against mine again but this time itstays pressed there, keeping the contact between us, his warmth seeping into me.
I catch him looking at me out of the corner of his eye. I smile, and he mirrors it briefly, just for me, before smoothing his expression back into his usual stoic default and leveling his stare on the judges.
CHAPTER 14: ALEX
It’s late, the sky is dark, and I can just barely make out the Big Dipper through the haze of light emanating from the city below. Back home, I’m higher up in the mountains, where the stars burn sharp against an endless black sky.
I stretch back against my pillow, folding my hands behind my head and closing my eyes, reliving every second with Taylor in the tent.
Over and over, I replay my favorite moment—her wide hazel eyes lighting up when, on impulse, I licked the spoon in her hand instead of taking it.
The memory sends a jolt of electricity through me.
Fuckkk…
I groan, shifting restlessly against the mattress.
