The kitchen is warm, filled with the smell of sugar and browned butter. I slide a tray of cookies onto the counter, resisting the urge to steal one for myself. Theo’s still next to me, casually close, his arm brushing mine every so often as we move around the kitchen. It’s not intentional—at least, not entirely—but I don’t mind.

I can feel him watching me again.

I pretend not to notice, reaching for a stack of plates. “Are you going to actually help, or just look pretty?”

He leans in slightly, just enough for his voice to drop into that smooth, teasing tone. “Who says I can’t do both?”

I roll my eyes, but my lips twitch. “You don’t turn it off, do you?”

“Not when it works.”

He flashes a grin, and I shake my head, focusing on stacking the cookies. If I look at him too long, I might get caught up in how ridiculously charming he is. Again.

“Seriously though. What can I say? You’re distracting,” he answers, voice smooth and unbothered, as if getting caught ogling me is just part of his evening routine.

My lips twitch, but I keep my focus on the sauce, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing me flustered. “Flatter me all you want, but if the snacks aren’t ready when everyone gets here, you’re the one explaining why.”

“Oh, I’ll just blame you.”

I roll my eyes at the grin in his voice, turning slightly just in time to catch him sneaking a cookie from the tray.

I smack his hand away with the spatula, laughing. “Not a chance, Hot Shot. If anyone’s going to ruin my perfect hosting streak, it’s definitely not me.”

He holds up his hands in surrender, but the playful gleam in his eyes tells me he’s not done being a menace just yet. And honestly? I don’t want him to be.

So, before he can do anything else, I grab his wrist and pull him into a spin, ducking under our arms as I twirl him around.

He stumbles, laughing. “Did you just turn chopping carrots into a dance break?”

His hands naturally settle on my waist, like they belong there. Maybe they do.

I smirk up at him, knowing exactly what I’m doing. “What can I say? I’m a multitasker.”

His gaze flicks down to my lips, and my breath catches.

“You’re ridiculous,” he murmurs, but he’s grinning as he leans down, his forehead pressing against mine.

“Ridiculously charming, you mean,” I whisper back, letting my lips brush against his in the lightest, most teasing of kisses.

And then, because the universe hates me, someone clears their throat. Loudly.

We both pull back, and I already know who it is before I even turn.

Bennett.