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I can’t help the smile that manifests on my face seeing Xander cooking and listening to my favourite song… Something feels right about this.

“You cook as well?” I tease. “I really hit the jackpot.”

He turns around, the cockiest smile plastered on his face. His muscles glisten deliciously in the yellow lodge light, and the bulge in his joggers is distracting enough to not even think about the food he’s cooking.

“My eyes are up here, Angel,” he smirks. “So, are you ever gonna tell me about this song?” he asks, his gaze flicking to me momentarily.

He grabs a pair of cooking mitts from the side counter and slips them over his hands.

A laugh bubbles out of me at the sight, and he glares at me as he walks over to the oven installed into a long unit, pulling it open. Herbs and garlic mix in the air as he slides out a tray of seasoned potato wedges and dishes them up next to our steaks.

I sigh. “My mum always used to listen to it in the morning. Before I went to school, I’d join her in dancing to it.”

“What happened to her?”

Here it goes. “She was killed,” I state. Plain and simple. “On my birthday.”

He pauses, slowly directing his gaze to me. “Who?” he asks, like he already knows the answer. His face is a mix of sadness, concern, guilt and anger.

“Luke. He denies it, but I know it was him. The note gave away everything.”

“I’m going to fucking kill him,” Xander grits out.

“It’s why I don’t celebrate.” Among other things…

“I’m sorry—”

“Don’t be. Anyway.” I prompt him to keep dishing up dinner. “I did a lot of healing from that. I… I don’t like talking about it. It’s also why I don’t celebrate my birthday. Or… part of the reason.”

He nods in understanding, and it’s like the air in the room changes, immediately becoming lighter. He just gets it.

Xander finishes the dishes off with a corn on the cob.

He even cuts up some unseasoned steak for Sid and places it inside his metal bowl on the floor, jumping away when Sid gracefully lands on the floor on all fours.

“Voilà,” he says, bowing dramatically at the waist.

“Let’s see,” I muse, taking my knife and fork and cutting off a chunk of steak.

I bring it to my mouth, and an explosion of flavours hits my senses. It’s possibly the best steak I’ve ever tasted.

“So?” he asks, shovelling multiple potato wedges into his mouth.

I sway my head from side to side, curling my lips down in a thinking manner. “Hmm, it’s okay. It could do with a little more—”

I don’t get to finish my sentence before his hand comes out to tickle my side. My fork clatters on the plate as I burst into a fit of giggles. “Okay, okay! I’m sorry!” I manage through breathless laughs. “It’s the best steak I’ve ever had.”

“It better be,” he warns, grabbing my neck and placing a lingering kiss on my lips.

After we finish our food, he takes us into the living room, placing me down on the cosiest sofa. He kneels in front of me, concern lining his face.

“I don’t want to ruin the mood, but if you ever want to tell me what happened, I’m here to listen.” He pauses. "And I'm sorry. I didn't know that's why you didn't celebrate your birthday."

That scar on my leg suddenly starts burning, but I refrain from rubbing it. Xander hasn’t seen it yet, and I’m scared that if he does, he’ll think of me differently. I’ll have to tell him about every time my body was used…

I don’t want to go there… yet.

"We can treat this as a getaway instead. That date I owe you—"