"Kael, what the hell—?"
Kael caught Freya's wrists before she could yank the blindfold off, his grip firm yet playful.
"No, no, no," he chided, his voice a low, teasing rumble that vibrated through the kitchen's warm air. "That's cheating, Freya. You're not allowed."
Her head tilted, gray eyes hidden but her brow furrowing beneath the cloth. "What cheating?" she demanded, tugging against his hold, the spatula still dangling in her right hand.
He released her wrists with a chuckle, stepping back just enough to let the heat of his presence linger.
"Yesterday, you bragged you could cook better than me blindfolded," he said, his tone taunting, dripping with challenge. "Was that all talk, or are you actually gonna prove it?"
Freya's lips pressed into a thin line, irritation flaring in her chest.
She could feel his grin without seeing it, that smug curve of his mouth she wanted to wipe off. Kael kept at it, his voice circling her like a predator.
