When they stepped out of the room, Erin still felt like her skin was humming from everything they'd shared. The hallway, for the first time, felt smaller somehow—maybe because of how close they were walking, with Xander's fingers loosely laced with hers.
She expected to head toward the kitchen, as usual, already mentally preparing for the scolding looks she'd get from the chefs for being in the way. But before she could step off course, Xander tugged her hand lightly and said, "You're not going to the kitchen today."
She blinked. "Why not?"
"I told the chef yesterday to handle breakfast. It's already done."
True to his word, when they entered the dining room, the table was already set—full, elegant, and smelling delicious. But what made Erin freeze for a second wasn't the feast. It was the realization that Xander hadn't let go of her hand the entire time. Not even when the staff standing around greeted them with subtle nods and bowed heads.
Conscious of the eyes on them, she gently tried to pull her hand free and move to her usual seat—directly across from him.
But Xander made no move to release her. Instead, with a low voice that was both casual and commanding, he said, "You can all leave now."
The staff exchanged a glance but obeyed swiftly, vanishing through the side door without protest.
"Xander," she hissed softly once the room was empty, shooting him a glare. "What are you doing?"
He didn't answer right away. He simply walked to his chair, still holding her hand. Then, to her surprise and rising panic, he sat down and pulled her with him—right onto his lap.
Her breath caught. "Are you—Xander!" She squirmed, trying to get up, but his arms wrapped around her waist like steel.
"Be good," he murmured close to her ear.
Her face flamed. "This is insane. What if—"
"There's no one here." His tone was far too pleased with himself.
She opened her mouth to argue again, but the argument vanished when he picked up a fork and carefully held it to her lips. It was too familiar. She flashed back to the last time he'd done this, when she was still recovering in bed and had refused him outright.
"No. I can feed myself," she muttered, twisting her face away.
This time, Xander didn't let her retreat. "I didn't ask," he said, and tapped the utensil against her lips again with maddening calm.
Eventually, sighing in defeat, she let him feed her. The bite melted in her mouth—perfectly warm and seasoned—but her embarrassment made it hard to even taste properly. Still, she chewed and swallowed, and once she did, she looked at him and said, "You haven't eaten a thing."
He tilted his head like he hadn't noticed.
She narrowed her eyes. "Xander."
He grinned, and that made her grab the spoon from his hand. "Your turn."
When she fed him, it felt oddly intimate—more so than even what they'd shared last night. There was something different in the vulnerability of it. Like they were stepping into a quieter, more personal space neither of them had really explored.
He chewed slowly, eyes never leaving hers.
After a few more bites, Xander asked lightly, "So. No more issues with the tango?"
She smiled around her next bite. "Nope. I had a great teacher."
He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Really? That good?"
Erin nodded. "Mm. Hard to forget any lesson when the teacher is that smugly proud of himself."
Xander chuckled, brushing it off with a mock sigh. "It was nothing."
Then, while she was still chewing, he leaned in and pressed his lips against her neck—warm and firm—and then began to suck gently at her skin.
Erin froze mid-chew, eyes wide. "Xander—"
But she didn't get to finish that sentence.
Because right at that moment, a familiar voice cut through the room.
"Ahem."
Xander halted immediately, his lips still ghosting her skin as they both turned toward the source of the sound.
Evan stood at the door, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
Erin's entire body went rigid. And then, as if burned, she tried to leap off Xander's lap. But his hand shot to her waist, holding her down.
Oh, God.
Maybe… maybe he hadn't seen it. Maybe from that angle…
But the slight quirk of Evan's brow said otherwise.
"I'll be waiting in the living room," he said evenly. "Since it's quite clear I'm not welcome here."
And just like that, he turned and walked off, leaving behind a silence that buzzed with tension and mortification.
Erin buried her face in her hands, groaning into them. "I am never showing my face again."
Xander just smirked and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Well. You're not the one who got interrupted mid-bite."
She smacked his chest with a weak glare, but her heart was racing too fast to come up with a comeback.