Dominic’s POV
I stop in the doorway, leaning against the frame, watching him. A strange, unfamiliar warmth blooms in my chest.
He senses me eventually, glancing over his shoulder with a sheepish grin. “Good morning. I thought I’d try making breakfast for us. No promises it’s edible.”
“You’re already feeding me just by being here,” I murmur, crossing the room.
Before he can respond, I slip behind him, sliding my arms around his waist. He stiffens in surprise, spatula frozen mid-air.
“Dominic,” he breathes, startled.
“Relax,” I murmur against his ear. My nose brushes his hairline, inhaling his scent. “If you keep feeding me like this, Ethan, I might never let you go.”
For a second, there’s only the sizzle of the pan between us. Then, so softly I almost think I imagined it, he whispers
