Page 30 of Half Baked

Putting the torch down, she picks up a freshly toasted tart instead and lifts it to my lips. I lock eyes with her, searching for any sign that she’s uncomfortable with our proximity. None of her particular tells are there though.

Slowly, I tilt my head down and take a bite. When she doesn’t pull back or try to put the pastry in my hand instead, I go back to finish the dessert. It gives me an excuse to brush my lips along her fingertips.

Her eyes spark when we make contact, and I can feel my pulse quicken from her reaction. Those eyes are beautiful when they’re filled with heat for me. Especiallythiskind of heat.

Something is shifting between us, and I need more. More of this. More of her. Bringing my hand to her waist, I hold her close and nod with satisfaction.

“Delicious,” I murmur.

Poppy doesn’t shimmy out of my grasp. And she doesn’t even look away from me when she says, “There you have it. So good, a firefighter approves of using an open flame in the kitchen.”

“I didn’t say that?—”

Turning back to the camera, she cuts me off with a flip of her hair. “Come back for the next episode, maybe we can light something else on fire for Hayden.”

“And cut! That was excellent,” Tara cheers, clapping her hands together. “This is going to be one of our best seasons yet.”

Her phone rings, and she jumps off her seat. “I need to take this, butyouneed to celebrate. You two—I swear I can feel your heat. I cannot wait to see what next week brings.” With a wave, the chipper showrunner disappears from the kitchen.

“That was… something,” Poppy breathes, taking a spot on the chair Tara just vacated. I follow, coming to rest beside her.

“Something good?”

She hesitates, refusing to look my way. “Do you think we get to see it before it’s released?”

“I would assume Tara would run it by you.”

She nods, letting her shoulders relax. Suddenly, she looks exhausted. I start to reach for her, to comfort her. Then I remember the way she snatched her hand away from me earlier—like I had electrocuted her.

Not wanting to feel the same rejection on the heels of whatever just happened between us, I veer to rest my hand on the counter instead.

“Did I hear you say you want to see it?”

We look up in unison as Trevor approaches. He keeps his attention focused on Poppy, offering, “I can show you some playback.”

“That would be great, thank you.” Poppy perks up eagerly as bitterness floods me. He’s the one that made her feel better. Not me.

“No problem.” He hands us each a headset, placing a tablet on the counter between us and hitting play.

Poppy looks beautiful on screen, like she belongs in the limelight. But I can’t help noticing the way she smiles wider when looking at me instead of the camera.

When we reach a part where I make her laugh unexpectedly, I turn to watch her reaction. She doesn’t give me anything, though, and her eyes remain glued to the screen. I purse my lips and turn back to the video, tracking the way we seem to move so naturally together in the kitchen. She has to see this chemistry. She has to understand.

“Are you doing anything to celebrate?” Trevor asks Poppy, looking up from the bag he’s loading his camera into. Why’s he only asking her? I slide my hands into my pockets, hiding the way they’re clenching into fists.

She pauses the playback and takes the headphones off. “Yes, actually. My friends and I are going to trivia at the local brewery.”

“Oh yeah, is the beer any good?”

“It’s a great place. Manchester Brewing Company, I would recommend you check it out while you’re in town.”

“Maybe I will tonight,” he replies with a grin.

What is with this guy? Poppy clearly didn’t invite him tonight. And was he even watching the way she fed me the pastry earlier?

“Trev, ready?” the assistant, Hannah, calls from the front lobby.Thank you, Hannah.

“Sorry, I have to take that with me,” he tells Poppy, pointing to the tablet and headsets. “Hopefully the little sneak peek helped.”