Page 61 of Paws & Order

"He'll survive."

My grin widens. "He definitely thinks we're living together."

Cassian closes his eyes.

The silence is answer enough.

"Oh my God."

"Don't."

"Oh my God."

"Liza."

I laugh harder.

By the time we make it to the kitchen, my stomach hurts. Breakfast is a surprisingly intimate thing. Not because we're doing anything romantic. Because we're not. That's the problem.

Cassian leans against the counter while I make pancakes, and I catch him watching me.

Repeatedly.

Every time I look up, he pretends to be interested in something else.

The coffee maker.

The refrigerator.

The weather.

One time he stares directly at a cabinet for ten full seconds.

"Cassian."

"What?"

"You know cabinets don't get prettier if you keep looking at them."

His ears redden. A little.

The sight nearly kills me.

"You're impossible."

"I'm delightful."

He mutters something under his breath.

I'm ninety percent sure it wasn't an insult.

When breakfast is finally ready, we sit across from each other.

I drown my pancakes in syrup. Cassian watches in horror.

"That's too much syrup."

"That's quitter talk."