Chapter 154.

Kylie woke to the smell of cinnamon.

For several seconds, she didn’t move. She remained beneath the warmth of her blankets, with her eyes still closed, as she breathed slowly.

The scent drifted through the room again.

Butter, sugar, and cinnamon. Something warm and sweet baking somewhere downstairs.

Her stomach growled.

Kylie frowned.

She opened one eye.

For one blissful second, she forgot. She forgot that she had brought someone home. She forgot that there was a man sleeping in her guest room.

She forgot about Christian.

She simply lay there, half asleep, wondering why her apartment suddenly smelled like a bakery.

Then she remembered.

Her eyes opened fully. "Oh, shit."

Kylie pushed herself upright. She looked toward the clock. A little after eight.

She groaned. She had gone to bed much later than she usually did.

And apparently, Christian had decided that the appropriate response to being given a guest room was to wake up before her and start cooking.

She dragged a hand over her face.

Another scent of sweet vanilla reached her.

Kylie stared toward the bedroom door.

What the hell was he doing?

She climbed out of bed. Her feet touched the cold floor. She stood there for a moment, listening.

She grabbed fresh clothes and disappeared into the bathroom.

Twenty minutes later, Kylie emerged with her blonde hair pulled loosely back, her face freshly washed, and a pair of comfortable shorts beneath an oversized shirt.

She hadn’t bothered with makeup.

She walked downstairs.

The scent became stronger with every step. She reached the bottom, and stopped.

Christian stood in her kitchen barefoot. He was wearing a plain black T-shirt and gray sweatpants.

His hair was slightly messy, as though he had run his hands through it too many times.

There was flour on his forearm. And somehow, there was a little streak of it near his jaw.

Kylie leaned against the doorway.

She watched him for a moment.

He didn’t notice her.

He was standing over the counter, concentrating on something inside a bowl. She watched his shoulders move as he mixed.

Then he reached for something.

The spoon slipped, and he swiftly caught it.

"Got you."

Kylie smiled. She hadn’t meant to.

Christian turned. His eyes found hers. His mouth curved into a small smile.

"Morning."

Kylie folded her arms. "What are you doing?"

He glanced around the kitchen. "Baking and cooking."

"I can see that." She narrowed her eyes. "Why are you baking in my kitchen at eight in the morning?"

"Because you’re welcome."

"That doesn’t answer my question."

Christian turned back toward the bowl. "It’s the last day of the year. And I decided we should make something."

"We?"

He looked at her over his shoulder. "Yes."

"You decided that?"

"I did."

"You know this is my apartment, right?"

"I’ve been here for less than twelve hours and already you’re questioning my authority."

"You have no authority."

"That’s hurtful."

"Good."

Christian smiled. "Come here."

"No."

"Please."

"No."

"I made breakfast."

"You’re baking."

"Breakfast can be baked."

"That’s not how breakfast works."

"It does today."

Kylie shook her head.

She walked toward the counter anyway.

Christian watched her approach.

"I’m wondering if you’re going to burn my kitchen down." Kylie murmured under her breath.

He placed a hand dramatically over his chest. "Can you for once trust me?"

Kylie looked into the bowl. "What are you making?"

"Something cinnamon."

She glanced at him. "You don’t know what you’re doing." she concluded.

Christian looked offended. "I absolutely know what I’m doing."

"Then what’s that?"

"Dough."

She rolled her eyes.

Christian nudged the bowl toward her. "Help me."

"No."

"Come on."

"I just woke up."

"Exactly. Your brain isn’t functioning properly yet. You’ll be easier to convince."

Kylie stared at him. "You are silly."

"I’ve been told I’m charming."

She scoffed mockingly. "By who?"

"Women with excellent taste."

She snorted.

Christian pointed at her. He grinned. "Come on." He held out the wooden spoon.

Kylie looked at it. Then at him. Then back at the spoon.

She sighed. "One bowl."

Christian smiled. "One bowl."

"And then I’m done."

"Absolutely."

"And if you make a mess—"

"I won’t."

She gave him a skeptical look.

Christian’s smile widened.

Kylie took the spoon. "Cutie."

She stopped.

Christian did too. The words hung between them for half a second.

His expression shifted.

Kylie cleared her throat. "Move." Her voice hardened at the edge.

Christian stepped aside. "Yes, chef."

"Don’t call me that."

"Yes, chef."

She glared at him.

He laughed.

And somehow, within five minutes, her quiet morning had turned into something else entirely.

Something warm, and ridiculous. Something she wasn’t supposed to want.

The flour became a problem almost immediately.

Kylie poured some into the bowl, and Christian added more.

"That’s too much." she corrected.

"It isn’t."

"You’re going to ruin it."

"I know how to bake."

"You’ve never baked anything in your life."

"I’ve watched people bake." he told her.

"That’s not the same thing."

"It counts."

"It absolutely does not."

Christian reached for the flour.

Kylie caught his wrist. "No. Stop it."

He looked down at her hand around his wrist. Then slowly looked at her.

Kylie realized what she’d done. She released him. "Don’t add that." She swallowed, and rubbed her eye with the back of her palm to distract herself.

Christian remained quiet.

Kylie turned back to the bowl. "Flour."

He handed it to her.

She added a little.

Christian watched.

She stirred.

The dough began to thicken.

Christian leaned over her shoulder, looking into the bowl. "This needs more."

"No."

"Trust me," he urged.

"I don’t." she answered immediately.

"You should."

"I really shouldn’t."

He reached around her for the flour. His chest brushed lightly against her shoulder.

Kylie froze. His cologne brushed past her nose, tickling her senses. Her toes curled, and her throat worked as she tried so hard to act unbothered.

Christian noticed.

His hand paused above the bowl.

For one second, neither moved.

Then he deliberately stepped back. "More flour," he said quietly.

Kylie swallowed. "Fine." She added it.

Christian smiled. "See?"

She glanced at him.

His smile was softer now.

"No," she said. She looked back at the bowl. "I don’t."

.....

Twenty minutes later, there was flour everywhere.

On the counter, on the floor, on the bowl, on Christian’s shirt, on Kylie’s hands, and somehow, inexplicably, on the refrigerator door.

Kylie stared at it. "How did that get there?"

Christian looked innocent. "I have no idea."

Kylie dipped two fingers into the flour.

Christian’s eyes narrowed. "What are you thinking?"

She smiled. "Thinking?" her smile widened.

"You have that evil look."

She slowly raised her hand.

Christian backed away. "Kylie."

She smiled wider. "Come here, pretty boy."

"No." he refused, keeping a distance with his eyes well sharpened and alert.

"Christian."

"No." She lunged forward.

He dodged, and she laughed.

He laughed out too.

"Come back here!" She demanded, laughing.

"No!" Kylie chased him around the kitchen.

He moved quickly, laughing as she tried to catch him.

"You’re such an idiot!" She yelled.

"That’s not very romantic!" He yelled back.

"Who said anything about romance?"

"You’re chasing me with flour!"

"Because you’re annoying!"

"That’s hardly grounds for violence!"

She finally caught him. She gripped the hem of his front shirt. Then she pulled him closer, and then her fingers smeared flour across his cheek.

Christian froze.

Kylie burst out laughing. "This is so much fun."

His cheek was covered in white.

He stared at her, then smiled slowly.

Kylie took a step backward seeing his smile.

"You’ve made a mistake."

Her eyes widened. "No."

Christian dipped his fingers into the bowl.

She turned, and he caught her around the waist.

Kylie shrieked. "Christian!"

He rubbed flour across the tip of her nose.

She gasped. "You bastard!"

He laughed.

"You started it."

"You—" She tried to wipe it off, but he caught her wrist.

"Leave it."

"Let go."

"Not until you admit defeat."

"Never."

"Then we’re here all morning." he assured her.

Kylie tried pulling away.

Christian held her still lightly.

She twisted.

"Stop moving."

"You stop holding me!"

"You’re the one attacking me."

"You put flour on my face!"

"You put it on mine first."

"That was different."

"How?"

"Because I did it."

Christian stared at her. Then laughed so hard he had to look away.

Kylie started laughing too. To her surprise, she couldn’t stop. The sound filled the kitchen.

She bent forward, holding her stomach. "Oh my God."

Christian was laughing now too. "You’re so surprising."

She laughed harder.

Her eyes watered. She tried to breathe. "I can’t—"

Christian grinned. "What?"

"I can’t breathe."

He immediately released her. "Okay, okay."

Kylie leaned against the counter. Her chest rose and fell rapidly. She wiped her eyes. "You’re awful." she cursed between her laughs.

Christian was still smiling. "But you laughed."

She looked at him. He was still covered in flour, and so was she. His hair was messy. There was a smear of dough near his wrist.

And she realized something.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed like this if it wasn’t with Emilia. The kind that made her stomach hurt.

The kind that left her breathless. The kind that made her forget everything else for a few minutes.

Christian watched her. His smile slowly softened. "You look happy." he noticed quietly.

Kylie stopped. She nodded. Her fave remained bright, and ready to laugh again. "I am."

His gaze remained on hers. "So am I."

The kitchen suddenly felt smaller.

Kylie looked away first. "Your dough is probably ruined."