Emily's POV
Ethan flashed a triumphant smile as he took control of the stove, his movements fluid and assured.
I watched, mesmerized, as he expertly cooked the noodles, his hands moving with a precision that belied his earlier claim of culinary ineptness.
The air between us seemed to sizzle with tension, and I found myself drawn to him, my gaze lingering on the sharp angle of his jaw, the way his hair curled slightly at the nape of his neck.
As he worked, he glanced up at me, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my heart skip a beat.
"Almost done."
His voice was low and husky, sending shivers down my spine.
"Maybe we should take some wine while we wait for the noodles to cook."
Ethan suggested, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Bring out some cups from the cupboard, would you?"
He asked, already heading towards the wine rack.
