“Let me.” She placed her hand on Gretchen’s and encouraged her to set the hot water down. They switched spots, and Jax went about prepping breakfast. She preferred more nuts than raisins, and Caleb only liked the sweet stuff in his. Jax was unsure how to make Gretchen’s and when she looked up to ask, Gretchen’s eyes were on her. Jax could feel her stare like a hot touch. “What?”

“Nothing,” Gretchen said, licking her lips. “It’s just, everything you do is so artistic. I could watch you work on even the silliest thing all day.”

Jax wiped the brown sugar from her palm into the sink. She felt a blush creep up her cheeks. She hadn’t received attention like this from Gretchen in a long time. “I’m just making oatmeal.”

“I always loved watching you. Whether you were painting or drawing. What have you worked on recently?”

Jax froze with a hot bowl in her hand. She put it down when it started to burn. “Nothing.”

“What do you mean? You were always in the studio.”

She didn’t want to talk about the packed-up studio or the boxes of art supplies gathering dust in her apartment. She didn’t want to explain how she saw Gretchen’s face every time she held a pencil, and how the one thing that had always given her inspiration now hurt her the most. Jax composed herself enough to take two of the three bowls to the table. Gretchen wasn’t far behind with the third.

“I’ll get Caleb.”

Gretchen held up her hand. “No, you get ready for work. I’ll get him. Just, please take this and eat a little something.” Gretchen grabbed the bowl with a spoon and napkin, and she handed it to Jax with an expression of surrender.

Jax was startled by her own desire to kiss away that forlorn look. She took the bowl and fled to the safety of the guest bedroom. She was no longer angry, and she didn’t need breakfast. What she needed was to get her head on straight. Jax couldn’t allow herself to fall for this all over again, especially this quickly. She knew the way she and Gretchen so easily fell together. But she had barely healed from the first time Gretchen let her go. How would she ever survive a second time?

Already knowing the answer, Jax set about getting ready for her workday. Eight hours in a miserable office surrounded by miserable people would undoubtedly distract her from the tiny blip her heart and body had just made. She walked to the guest bathroom and stopped in front of the door to her former studio. The door was shut. She couldn’t see a thing inside, but it still called to her. She had given up on ever feeling creative again, so she couldn’t understand why the room scared her so much.