Sloane’s POV
The smell of garlic, seared herbs, and rich butter greets me the second we step through the door of my apartment, instantly making my mouth water. Dropping my bag, he grins as he walks me to my tiny kitchen, setting me down on a chair.
Xavier sets the warm plate in front of me. A seared salmon over a bed of creamy parmesan risotto and roasted asparagus.
No way. In my kitchen?! Impossible. Getting up, I rush to wash my hands, and he laughs at my enthusiasm.
We eat in a comfortable, quiet rhythm at first, but the sated, peaceful mood between us creates a rare kind of safety. For the first time in as long as I can remember, the heavy vault in my chest opens up. The memories I’ve kept locked away don't feel like sharp, dangerous broken glass anymore, they just feel like... My
