37. Burned

I couldn't stop grinning as I flipped another pancake. Burned.

Again.

It didn't matter, though. Lila sat on the kitchen bar, her legs swinging, watching me with a smirk that told me she was enjoying this way too much. I wasn't about to give up. Even if I ruined every single one, I was having too much fun pretending I knew what I was doing.

"You missed a spot," she said, pointing at the mess of flour and egg splattered across the counter.

"I'm just adding character to the kitchen," I replied, tossing another glob of batter into the pan with exaggerated flair.

She laughed and folded her legs up under her. The sleeves of my shirt were too long on her arms, making her look even smaller and more comfortable.

Like she belonged here.

In my space.

In my life.

"You're enjoying this way too much," I said, flipping a pancake that barely stayed intact.

"I'm enjoying the show," she replied, resting her chin on her hand. "You're very… committed to this failure."

I picked up a fork and stabbed