Last time had been… a disaster.
Hissing. Claws. A full-scale rejection of Alois’s existence that had left scratches and tension neither of them had acknowledged out loud.
This was something completely different. Bento stopped just within reach. Tilted his head. And then—like he’d made a decision he was willing to live with—he brushed once, lightly, against Alois’s leg.
Not lingering.
A test.
My breath caught.
Alois didn’t move. Didn’t look down. Didn’t reach. He stayed exactly where he was, like even acknowledging it might break whatever fragile thing had just happened.
Bento stepped away a second later, entirely uninterested in making it a moment, tail flicking as he turned toward the kitchen like nothing had happened.
I swallowed, my gaze dragging back up to Alois.
He was already looking at me.
Not sharp. Not assessing.
Just… there.
And then he looked away first.
I stared at him for a second before forcing my attention back to my phone, the screen already dimming in my hand.
“Your answers were clean,” I muttered, my voice steadier than I felt. “You didn’t give them anything too devastating.”
Behind me, I heard the soft, familiar sound of the kettle shifting on the stove as the heat caught, metal ticking faintly as it warmed.
“I wasn’t worried that I would,” Alois replied.
I turned.
He’d moved now—just enough to set his keys on the counter, his jacket already shrugged off and tossed over the back of the chair like he’d done it a hundred times. Like this was his space.
“You should be,” I groaned, stepping further into the apartment, setting my phone down harder than necessary. “You gave them a line they’re going to replay.”
His gaze flicked back to me.
“What line?”
I crossed my arms without thinking, leaning my hip against the counter like I needed the support. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Act like you don’t know exactly what I’m talking about.”
His mouth twitched—barely there. Not quite a smile. Not quite anything.
“Enlighten me.”
My jaw tightened. “You grouped me in,” I snapped. “Withthe team. With the people you ‘care about.’ Was that the plan sticking or your true feeling spilling out?”
The kettle let out a low, rising hum behind me, the sound threading through the space like tension made audible.
Alois pushed off the counter slowly, closing some of the distance between us without making it obvious. “That’s what a good boyfriend does,” he remarked with a subtle shrug.