Months Later

5 months later. Kian's eyes are fixed on me as I concentrate on making the perfect torte. I feel heat rising in my face. "Stop looking at me. You're making me nervous," I mutter without meeting his gaze. "I love looking at you. You're beautiful," he says. I sigh and, after tasting the torte, realize it's not as good as Mom's. In frustration, I slam my hand down onto the cake. Kian wraps an arm around my waist and kisses me gently. I turn to face him, wrapping my arms around his neck. "I'm terrible at baking," I moan. "You'll perfect it," he reassures me. "You perfected yours in just two tries! This is my mom's recipe, not yours," I whine like a child. He hoists me up and sets me on the counter. I wrap my legs around his waist as he crashes his lips against mine, and we kiss hungri