Aria's POV - Next Morning
I woke to the sound of laughter.
Not just any laughter—Noah's delighted giggles mixed with a deeper, masculine chuckle that made my chest ache.
I grabbed my robe and padded downstairs barefoot, following the sound to the kitchen. The scene that greeted me stopped me in the doorway.
Damien stood at the stove, flipping pancakes with surprising competence. He wore jeans and a t-shirt. Noah sat on the counter beside him, his feet swinging, chocolate chips smeared across his face.
"And then the pancake flew!" Noah threw his hands up dramatically. "Right to the ceiling!"
"It did not fly to the ceiling." Damien flipped another pancake onto a plate. "It maybe went up a foot."
"It flew!" Noah insisted. "And then it landed on your head!"
Damien ruffled Noah's hair, sending flour dust everywhere. "You're a terrible witness. Very unreliable."
"What's unree-liable?"
"It means you make things up."
