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“I see it.” His posture slumps.

I scratch beneath her chin and along both cheeks. Her eyes slide nearly closed, and when I slip an arm beneath her, she doesn’t merely tolerate being lifted. She melts, rolling onto her back in my arms like a baby, one white paw hooking lazily over my wrist.

“Look at you, you adorable little queen,” I praise her.

Gage snorts, personally offended. “She doesn’t let people hold her like that. She doesn’t even let me hold her like that.”

“Apparently she lets me.” Marzipan stretches her neck for more scratches, purring harder. I grin at him. “She loves me.”

“She met you thirty seconds ago.”

“Love doesn’t follow clocks.” I kiss her forehead. “Who’s the prettiest little diva, Marzi?”

“Great. Two minutes, and we have nicknames.” The cat ignores him entirely. He shakes his head. “If this weren’t already recorded, my subscribers would never believe it.”

I freeze. “Already recorded?”

He gestures around us. “I have cameras running in the common areas.”

“Of course you do.” I glance up at a camera tucked in the corner.

He shrugs. “You learn pretty fast as a content creator that the second you stop filming is when viral gold happens.”

Marzipan still melts against me. “So there’s actual proof she chose me over you?”

His expression goes flat. “Regrettably.”

“I want the footage.”

“Deal. If I get to share it.”

My head snaps up. “With millions of people?”

“Eventually. Once we announce I’m officially off the market.” He scratches his beard. “Paid subscribers, first. They get behind-the-scenes stuff, extra recipes, bloopers, cat videos. And they’ll go feral over this.”

I purse my lips. “How many subscribers?”

A pause. “Sixty-seven thousand.”

My brows hit the ceiling. “That’s a fucking arena.”

He grins. “You want the footage or not, Princess?”

I look down at Marzipan, who stretches luxuriously in my arms without a shred of loyalty to the man who feeds her. “Fine. But I get veto power.”

“Done.”

“And no weird captions.”

His smile turns suspicious. “No captions. How do you feel about emojis?” He lifts his phone.

I kiss Marzipan, lower her to the floor, and inspect the screen.

Gage= + Jubilee=

I stare at the bread, then back at him. My eyes roll so hard, they nearly leave my skull.

“What?” he asks, entirely too innocent. “I bake bread.”