Or maybe he just hadn’t learned how to lean yet.
He should lean on them, though. That was what pack was for. That was the point of all those shared meals, dumb traditions, inside jokes. It wasn’t just about warmth. It was about protection. Stability. A safety net.
One he clearly needed, and one he was too damn stubborn to reach for. Still, was it my place to tell him that? Maybe not. But it didn’t stop me from wanting to.
Didn’t stop the way my chest tightened watching him move around the kitchen like nothing was wrong.
“Everyone went out for lunch,” James said, breezy. “Callum gave me kitchen duty today.”
“You should’ve gone with them,” I pointed out.
“I had cupcakes.”
I blinked. “That’s not lunch.”
James grinned and gestured toward the tray beside the espresso machine. “It is when you’re desperate and too lazy to cook.”
I sighed and stepped toward the counter. “That’s pathetic.”
“It’s called resourceful. And those cupcakes have a whole egg in them. Protein.” He watched as I picked one up, inspected it. Then cautiously, I bit into it.
It was… not great. Dense, a little dry. But not the worst thing I’d ever eaten.
James leaned on the counter, watching me like I was some kind of rare exhibit. “So?”
I shrugged. “Edible.”
He laughed. “Coming from you? That’s practically a Michelin star review.”
“You need to eat better,” I said, frowning. “You’re not going to stay young and reckless forever.”
James raised an eyebrow. “Is this your version of asking me out on a lunch date?”
“No,” I said, then paused. “Maybe.”
His smile turned soft. Dangerous. “That a yes, Grumpy Bear?”
I grunted and stuffed the rest of the cupcake in my mouth.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” James said.
The moment lingered. There was something in the air between us, Warmer than before. Not quite comfortable. But not prickling like it used to.
I wasn’t just reacting to him now. I was choosing to be here. With him.
“Is something wrong with your espresso machine?” I muttered, nodding toward the busted, humming mess on the counter.
“I was waiting for my favorite grizzly contractor to wander in,” James said.
I rolled my eyes. “Step aside.”
He did, dramatically, bowing. “Fix away, O mighty baker-mechanic.”
I got to work, popping open the panel and checking the connections. James leaned close, way too close, pretending to peer at something while his elbow brushed my arm. His scent wrapped around me.
He was doing it on purpose, I knew. Teasing. Testing. Flirting. But it didn’t feel like manipulation anymore. It didn’t feel like Kellen. It felt like James. Honest and messy and just a little bit annoying.
“You know,” James said, breaking the silence, “I was really convinced you hated me when we first met.”
