NIKO.
I hadn’t been trying to kiss her at all. I had only been reaching for the cinnamon jar tucked behind her on the counter. The realization came a split second too late, right after Alex stiffened, her breath hitching as she snapped at me to back off. I paused, my hand hovering uselessly in the air, then calmly retrieved the jar and stepped away as if nothing had happened.
Her face burned red.
The embarrassment that washed over her was unmistakable, and I had to fight the smirk tugging at my mouth. I turned away before she could catch it, pretending to focus on the oven timer, but inside, something ugly and satisfied stirred.
I liked that she was affected. I liked that she thought about me even when she didn’t want to. I told myself it wasn’t cruelty. It was pride. My ego had taken
