The bakery came into view, warm light glowing from inside, the windows fogged slightly with the morning’s first heat.
The scent of bread, butter, and cinnamon drifted through the air like bait.
Through the window, I spotted Cyrus behind the counter, scowling at a tray of croissants like they’d personally insulted him.
Rowan leaned lazily against the espresso machine, sipping something that looked more like blended grass than coffee.
And then Cyrus looked up. Saw us. Saw me and James, hand in mine. He froze mid-bite, his jaw practically unhinged.
“Ohhh no way,” he shouted, shoving through the front door like it had wronged him. “Tell me I’m not hallucinating!”
Rowan followed, grinning like someone about to instigate absolute chaos. “Public hand-holding before nine a.m.? That’s practically a proposal.”
James groaned. “Ignore them.”
“I would,” I muttered, “but they’re both very loud.”
“So!” Cyrus said, pointing a dramatically trembling finger between us. “Are we official now? Is this what this is? Mr. Grumpy Bear and our cupcake prince?”
James flushed. “You’re just jealous no one wants to hold your hand before coffee.”
“I’m very lovable,” Cyrus huffed.
“Objectively false,” Rowan said, sipping his suspiciously green drink.
Callum stepped out next, clipboard in hand. His eyes landed on us, and for a second, I tensed. But all he did was lift a brow and give James a quiet, approving nod.
James caught it, his shoulders relaxing just a bit more.
I took a step back as James started up the bakery steps, not wanting to crowd him while the wolves were still being obnoxious, but he paused at the top and looked over his shoulder.
“You coming in?” James asked.
I shook my head. “You’ve got work. I’ve got work. I’ll be back later to pick you up.”
He hesitated then came back down a step, leaned in, and kissed me. Not a peck. Not a quick goodbye. Just… slow. Certain. Like he didn’t care who was watching.
I kissed him back, no hesitation. I didn’t even flinch when Cyrus made a dramatic gagging noise behind us.
“I’m too young for this!” Cyrus shouted.
“Grow up,” James said without looking, and disappeared into the shop.
I stood there a little longer, feeling the warmth bloom in my chest like a second sunrise. The teasing. The kiss. The way James didn’t flinch or pretend it meant less than it did.
The wolves might have made a scene, but I didn’t care. Everyone knew now. And I wasn’t disappointed about that. No. I was proud. Proud that he was mine. Proud that he let me in.
Chapter 15
Rafael/ James
RAFAEL
The lunch rush at Wolf & Whisk was in full swing by the time I pushed through the back entrance, holding a paper bag in one hand and a drink carrier in the other.
The scent of cinnamon and sugar punched me in the face like a warm, aggressive hug. The wolves were running around like someone had spiked the flour with Red Bull.
I was supposed to just drop off food. That was the plan. But then I saw James.
