By hour nine, fatigue showed in small cracks.
The overhead lights flickered once.A warning no one acknowledged.Titus stepped in beside her to reach the spice bin, his hip nudging her into the counter as if there were no other path.
“Move,” she said, sharper than before.
“Say please.”
He opened the tin without looking at her.His knuckles brushed her wrist.She tried to step away, but he didn’t give her space until he chose to.
Her grip slipped.The knife cut across her thumb.
Pain came quick and bright.Blood followed, rising in a thin line that spread faster than she wanted.She pulled her hand back, pressing it against her apron, already turning toward the sink.
His hand closed around her wrist before she got there.“Give it here.”
She didn’t argue.
He lifted her hand between them, eyes on her face for a second before dropping to the cut.His mouth closed over her thumb, pulling the blood away in a slow, deliberate draw that stopped her breath short.
For one second, everything else dropped out.She felt the warmth of his mouth, the pressure, the steady way he didn’t rush it.Her body reacted before her mind caught up—a tight pull low in her stomach that had nothing to do with the cut.
She yanked her hand back.“Keep your mouth to yourself,” she said, voice rougher than she intended.
He didn’t step away.He looked at her, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as if nothing about the moment required comment.“Wouldn’t want to offend you,” he said.
She grabbed a paper towel and wrapped it tight around her thumb.“You don’t have the range for that.”
He turned back to the pot, stirring as if the interruption hadn’t happened.Kyla forced her breathing to settle as she cleaned and bandaged her thumb.She reached for the peppers and cut faster than necessary, letting the speed cover the way her hand wanted to shake.
The shift wore on.
Twelve hours stretched in front of her, then collapsed behind her without warning.The work didn’t change.The space didn’t change.What sat under her skin did.Every time he moved close, she felt it.Every time he didn’t, she felt that too.
By the time the lights cut out, she was already running on the edge of something she didn’t want to name.
The kitchen went black without warning.Kyla froze with both hands on the prep table, her breath caught halfway in.The noise from the gym dropped into a stunned quiet, broken only by a child’s cry and the scrape of movement in the dark.Emergency lights failed to kick in.Only the red glow from exit signs gave the room shape.
Kyla moved on instinct, turning toward the supply closet where she’d seen a flashlight earlier.Her hand slid along the wall, counting steps, mapping the space from memory.The kitchen felt wrong without light, distances shifting just enough to throw her off.
She reached for the door and ran into him instead.Her chest struck his.Solid.Unyielding.
“Titus—”
“Stay still.”His voice cut low through the dark.
Her hands came up to push him back, palms flat against his chest.He caught her waist before she could create distance, fingers locking in with a certainty he hadn’t shown all night.
“Let go,” she said.
He stepped forward instead.Her back met the shelving behind her.Metal pressed through her clothes, cold and unyielding.His body followed, closing the gap until there was no space left to negotiate.
The dark stripped everything down.No room for deflection.No distance to hide inside.
His mouth found hers.No warning.No pause.
Kyla grabbed his shirt, twisting the fabric for leverage as he pulled her in.His teeth caught her lip.She answered without thinking, biting back, matching the force he brought into it.Their hips collided.
She moved first this time, grinding into him once, hard enough to feel the response in his body.He made a low sound against her mouth, the vibration of it sending a sharp pull through her center.
