Chapter 74 Flirting
Violet
The kitchen smells like coffee and butter and something normal.
That alone feels like a small miracle.
I stand at the stove, flipping pancakes while eggs sizzle in another pan. I’ve already plated food once, and Devin and Theo are seated at the island like they’ve been invited to a very strange breakfast summit.
I slide plates in front of them with practiced efficiency.
“There,” I say. “Eat.”
Theo eyes the pancakes. “You cook now too?”
“I always cook,” I reply. “I just don’t usually do it in fortified compounds.”
Devin picks up his fork. “You didn’t have to.”
“I know,” I say. “That’s not the same thing.”
Theo takes a bite and groans dramatically. “Okay. I take it back. You can stay forever.”
I roll my eyes and turn back to the stove to pour another pancake. “You are not helping your case.”
Theo leans back in his chair, smirking. “So about the flirting.”
I stop flipping.
“I wasn’t flirting,” I say calmly.
“You absolutely were,” Theo insists. “You smiled. You asked questions. You made eye contact.”
“That’s called being a human,” I snap, turning to face him. “Not flirting.”
Devin sips his coffee, watching this unfold with quiet amusement. “You were laughing.”
“I laugh at you too,” I point out. “Does that mean I’m flirting with you?”
Theo opens his mouth.
“Careful,” I warn.
He closes it.
“Being nice to someone does not mean I want to sleep with them,” I continue, irritation creeping in. “I can hold a conversation without it being a come on. I was polite. He did me a favor. End of story.”
Theo shrugs. “I’m just saying, from the outside, it looked like flirting.”
“From the outside,” I repeat flatly. “You mean from the perspective of men who assume female attention exists for their interpretation.”
Devin snorts into his coffee.
Theo points at him. “Don’t encourage her.”
Devin sets his mug down. “She’s not wrong.”
I give Devin a grateful look. “Thank you.”
Theo sighs. “All I’m saying is Rowan is not going to like it.”
“I am not responsible for Rowan’s feelings,” I say, flipping the last pancake. “And I am especially not responsible for policing my behavior so it fits into whatever narrative makes other people comfortable.”
The kitchen goes quiet for half a second.
Then footsteps.
Heavy ones.
I don’t have to turn around to know who it is.
Rowan enters the kitchen like a storm front, jaw tight, eyes sharp, posture rigid with contained fury. His gaze flicks from Theo to Devin to me to the plates on the counter.
“What,” he says slowly, “is this about flirting?”
Theo freezes mid bite.
Devin very deliberately focuses on his food.
I inhale once.
Then I turn to face Rowan.
“I asked one of the guards to go to the grocery store,” I say evenly. “There was no food in the fridge. He went for me. He helped bring the bags in.”
Rowan’s eyes don’t leave my face.
“I thanked him,” I continue. “I spoke to him. I smiled. Because I’m not rude.”
Theo shifts in his seat.
“Apparently,” I add, glancing pointedly at Theo and Devin, “that means I was flirting.”
Rowan’s expression darkens.
“I wasn’t,” I say firmly. “I was being nice. Those are not the same thing.”
Silence.
Theo clears his throat. “I mean, to be fair, you do have a very friendly demeanor.”
I glare at him.
He raises both hands. “I am stopping now.”
Rowan steps closer, stopping just across from me at the island. His presence is intense, but his voice stays controlled.
“You didn’t cross a line,” he says.
I blink.
“But,” he continues, “you don’t need to engage with security beyond necessity.”
“I wasn’t engaging,” I reply. “I was existing.”
His mouth tightens slightly.
“I don’t know how to flirt,” I add before I can stop myself. “Honestly. I don’t think I ever learned how. I talk to people. That’s it.”
Rowan studies me for a long moment.
Then, quietly, “You don’t need to justify yourself.”
I hadn’t realized how tense I was until my shoulders drop.
“I just don’t like being accused of something I didn’t do,” I say. “Especially when it implies intentions I don’t have.”
Theo nods. “Fair.”
Devin stands, collecting his plate. “This has been enlightening.”
Rowan’s gaze flicks to him. “You’re done.”
“Yes,” Devin says. “Before I say something I shouldn’t.”
Theo follows suit, standing quickly. “Same.”
They retreat with their plates like they’re escaping a blast radius.
Rowan remains.
He looks at the food. Then at me.
“You didn’t sleep?” he says.
I shrug. “I slept enough.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
I meet his eyes. “I’m functioning.”
His jaw flexes.
“I don’t like the idea of people reading into you,” he says.
“That sounds like a you problem,” I reply gently.
A corner of his mouth twitches despite himself.
“I suppose it is,” he admits.
I hand him a plate. “Eat.”
He hesitates, then takes it.
And for a moment, the tension eases.
Just a little.
Rowan sets the plate down on the island instead of eating.
That alone puts me on edge.
He doesn’t look angry now. He looks… thoughtful. Which is somehow worse.
“Can I ask you something?” he says.
I hesitate. “That depends.”
His eyes flick up to mine. “On what?”
“On whether this is a work question or a personal one,” I say.
He pauses, then answers honestly. “Personal.”
That earns him a raised brow. “That’s new.”
“I’m aware,” he says dryly. Then, after a beat, “You said you don’t know how to flirt.”
I nod. “Correct.”
“And you weren’t flirting with the guard.”
“Also correct.”
He leans back against the counter, crossing his arms. Not defensive. Grounded. Like he’s bracing for something.
“So,” he says carefully, “your past relationships. How did they start?”
Oh.
That’s… not what I expected.
I stare at him for a second too long. “That’s an awkward question.”
“Yes,” he agrees immediately. “I know.”
“Then why ask it?”
“Because,” he says, eyes steady on mine, “if you weren’t the one initiating, I want to understand what you were responding to.”
The phrasing is deliberate. Not accusatory. Curious.
It still makes my stomach twist.
“I didn’t flirt,” I say again, softer this time. “I didn’t chase. I didn’t play games.”
“So they did,” he says.
I nod once. “At first.”
“At first,” he repeats.
I pick at the edge of the counter, suddenly very interested in the grain of the stone. “They noticed I was reliable. That I showed up. That I listened.”
Rowan doesn’t interrupt.
“That I had my life together,” I continue. “Or at least… together enough to be useful.”
His jaw tightens almost imperceptibly.
“They started conversations,” I say. “Asked for help. Needed favors. Leaned on me.”
“And you gave it,” he says quietly.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
I laugh once, sharp and humorless. “Because I thought that was what being wanted looked like.”