**ALEX’S POV**
I was putting the final touches on the chicken when my phone buzzed.
Julie.
I wiped my hands and answered, still stirring the pan with my other hand.
“Hey, Julie.
Yeah, yeah.
Isn’t this project hard?”
Lilith was on the couch, phone in her hands, pretending to scroll.
I could feel her attention shift the moment I spoke.
She wasn’t even trying to hide it very well.
Julie’s voice came through bright and slightly rushed.
“Heeyyyy, I’m glad you picked up!
I know you’re probably busy, but I have a quick question.”
“Yeah, ask me.”
“Okay, so… don’t be mad, but I kinda forgot to submit the data report for the last project.
And the deadline’s in like two hours, and I’m stuck on the bus, which is just… *ugh*.” She sighed.
“Any way you could send it over for me?
Pretty, pretty please???”
I glanced at the clock on the stove.
“How long do you have left for the deadline?”
“*Two hours!* I swear if the bus breaks down or gets stuck in traffic—” She cut herself off with a groan.
“Look, I know it’s last minute.
But you’re *always* on top of things.
Can you just… send it?
I’ll owe you big time!”
Lilith had stopped pretending.
She was watching me openly now, one eyebrow slightly raised.
“Okay,” I said.
“Give me your remote access link through the office app.
I’ll send it.”
Julie’s relief was immediate.
“Oh my god, yes, thank you so much!
You’re a lifesaver, seriously.” She rattled off the details.
“You won’t regret helping me out like this.
Once I’m back, I’ll owe you a *huge* favor.”
“Okay.
See you tomorrow in the office.”
I hung up, opened the app on my phone, and logged into her laptop remotely while still standing at the stove.
It took less than four minutes to find the report, attach it, and submit it.
I locked the remote session and set the phone down.
“Done.
Meal’s ready.”
Lilith let out a low whistle and hopped off the couch.
“Damn, you’re like… *really* efficient, aren’t you?” She walked over and peered over my shoulder at the now-dark phone screen. New chapters come out on novelping.com first.
“Have to be for work.”
She hummed, clearly amused, and leaned closer.
Her chin almost rested on my shoulder.
The soft press of her body against my back was light, but it still sent a familiar current straight down my spine.
One month of careful distance, and the simple contact still registered too clearly.
“You really are a good little worker bee, aren’t you?” she said, voice low and teasing near my ear.
“All about efficiency and deadlines.” She pressed a fraction closer.
I could smell her shampoo again.
“But now that you’re done… your current task is to feed me.”
I kept my voice even.
“Be my guest.”
Lilith didn’t wait for plates or the table.
She grabbed a fork, took a portion straight from the pan, and leaned against the counter while she ate.
After the first bite she made a soft, approving sound.
“Mmm… damn… you *really* can cook.
Like, this is restaurant-level good.” She took another bite and eyed me.
“You have any other secret hidden skills I should know about?”
“Have to keep secrets, ma’am.”
She rolled her eyes, but the smirk was there.
“Aww, come on… not even *one* hint?
I wanna know what kind of hidden talents I’m living with.”
I plated proper portions for both of us and set them on the small table.
“I can also make alcohol.
Not because I drink.
A friend taught me because he was always a money saver.”
Lilith froze mid-bite.
Her eyes widened, then lit up with interest.
She set the fork down slowly.
“Wait—*what?* You can *make alcohol?*” A slow smirk spread across her face.
“…That explains why the fridge was *always* mysteriously stocked with those weird little bottles last month…”
“Yes.
Because of him, when he’s sober.”
She let out a short, stifled laugh.
“I’m seriously starting to think there’s something you *can’t* do.
Cooking, computer skills, *and* homebrewing?
Damn.”
“Let’s eat our meal.”
Lilith nodded, still smiling, and finally sat down across from me.
We ate in relative quiet for a few minutes.
The food was good.
The air between us felt lighter than it had in weeks, but not completely light.
Every time she looked up from her plate I felt the same quiet pull I’d been managing since the weekend that changed everything.
She finished first, pushed her empty plate away, and crossed her arms.
“Alright, alright, I’ll stop pestering about your skills for now. This story is hosted at g.com.
But I’ll find out more about your secrets, mark my words~” She shot me a sly wink.
Then, with a small smirk: “And I better *not* be doing the dishes.”
I stood, collected both plates, and carried them to the sink.
“Deal’s a deal.
You wanted dinner.
You got dinner.
Dishes are on me.”
Lilith stayed in her chair, watching me with that same half-smile she’d worn earlier on the counter.
The oversized hoodie still made her look smaller than usual, softer.
Ordinary.
And somehow that made the undercurrent harder to ignore, not easier.
I turned on the water and started washing.
Behind me I heard her get up.
Soft footsteps approached, then stopped a few feet away.
“You know,” she said quietly, “you’re different than you were a month ago.”
I kept my eyes on the plate in my hands.
“Am I?”
“Yeah.” She didn’t elaborate right away.
When she spoke again her voice was lighter, but not completely playful.
“It’s not a bad thing.
Just… noticeable.”
I rinsed the plate and set it in the rack.
The old rules still tried to tell me to keep the conversation safe and shallow.
The newer part of me—the part that had spent a weekend learning what her body felt like under my hands—wanted to turn around and ask her what exactly she saw when she looked at me now.
I did neither.
I just kept washing the second plate and said, “Dinner was the deal.
Nothing else.”
Lilith was quiet for a moment.
Then I heard the soft huff of a laugh.
“Sure, Summers.
Nothing else.”
She walked past me toward the living room.
As she went, her fingers brushed lightly against the back of my shoulder—barely there, gone in a second.
It could have been accidental.
It didn’t feel accidental.
I finished the dishes, dried my hands, and stood at the sink a little longer than necessary, listening to her settle back onto the couch.
The apartment felt the same as it had all month.
And it didn’t.
I turned off the kitchen light and walked into the living room.
Lilith was already scrolling on her phone again, feet tucked under her, looking completely at ease.
She glanced up once when I sat down in the armchair, gave me a small, unreadable smile, then looked back at her screen.
We spent the rest of the evening like that—two roommates sharing the same quiet Sunday space, the television on low, the leftover warmth of the meal still in the air.
Nothing happened.
Everything that had shifted between us simply sat there, unspoken, waiting to see which one of us would move first.