“Zach,” she said, trying to sound scolding but unable to hide her smile. She could feel his warm hands through her dress, the soft touch contrasting with the rough cutting board under her hands. “Don’t call me sweetheart, you know what it does to me.” Her voice came out softer than she meant it to, barely audible over the sound of the sizzling sauce and the fridge humming quietly. She couldn’t help but notice how his touch, his words, and his presence affected her. It was a powerful feeling, both exciting and a little scary. But even with all the uncertainty that came with these new emotions, she knew she wouldn’t trade them for anything else.

“We need to make dinner. I’m starving,” she added with a small sigh, her hands pausing on the cutting board. She looked from the pan on the stove to Zach’s face, his eyes shining with the same warmth she felt.

"I can’t help myself, sweetheart, you’re irresistible." Zach whispers playfully, his voice filled with hidden desires. The smell of her shampoo mixes with the delicious aroma of tomatoes, garlic, and basil cooking on the stove. It's so tempting that it almost drives him crazy. It feels like their space is getting smaller, wrapping them in warmth and love. He feels completely happy as he realises that everything he wants - Hazal, their laughter, and the comfort of this kitchen - is right there within his reach. As he continues to shower her neck with gentle kisses, he knows he wouldn't trade this moment for anything else.

Zach's heart leaps with joy, knowing that Hazal is his girlfriend. It's an exciting thought that makes him feel alive. It's hard to pull away from her, but he manages to do it, giving her one more kiss on the neck before stepping back. "Alright, what can I help with? I can't let my girlfriend go hungry, can I?" His voice is full of love as he turns to focus on getting dinner ready, eager to do whatever she needs and enjoy their time together in this cosy kitchen.

But when he spoke with a flirtatious tone and his voice got deeper, her cheeks flushed with color. Her jaw dropped slightly as she tried to process his words and what they meant. “Wait,” she said, her fingers nervously fidgeting in her lap. Friendly banter was one thing, but this… this was new territory for her. She wanted to respond in the same playful way, to throw back the flirtatious ball he had sent her way, but her words got stuck, tangled in the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her.

Finally, she managed to muster a shaky response. “Don’t think you can just smooth-talk your way out of this, okay? It’s not about who’s paying. It’s…” She paused, biting her lower lip in an attempt to hide her widening smile. “It’s just that… this is too much. The Estuary is way too expensive for a first date that might end up in disaster.” As he focused on the road again, she took a moment to process the unexpected turn of the evening. Her heart still thumped loudly in her chest, her mind a whirlwind of excitement, nerves, and anticipation. But amidst it all, a soft smile lingered on her lips, a clear sign of the thrill that lay ahead on this unexpected night.

Before she can reply, he jumps in, speaking all flirty and lowers his voice, "Nadya, tonight's all about you. Only the top-notch stuff, yeah?" Her reaction is priceless - she's proper stunned and blushing. They exchange a look filled with respect, or at least he reckons so. He effortlessly flashes his charming grin. "Don't worry 'bout the bill, love. It's a date and I've got you covered," he reassures her, his gaze softening. A quiet moment hangs in the air after his honest confession. He shifts his focus back to the road, feeling a fresh wave of excitement, picturing how perfect this evening's gonna be.

In the middle of their playful teasing, he notices a different side of Nadya, right adorable it is. This side only came out after they snogged yesterday. It warms his heart to see her lost for words, and he makes a mental note to remember this moment. When they get to The Estuary, Griffin opens the door for Nadya. Their hands find each other, fingers interlacing like they've done it before, before he hands the keys to the driver to park the motor. They're shown to a table inside, with a banging view of the shoreline stretching out like a proper masterpiece. "We're gonna have a wicked time tonight," he says after they've taken their seats.

As they stepped into the cupcake store, a delicious smell of freshly baked cupcakes filled the air, surrounding them like a cozy blanket. It was impossible to ignore the tempting aroma and the cupcakes displayed in a neat row, their vibrant colors dazzling her eyes. But Mishka held onto her determination, reminding herself that she couldn’t stay any longer than necessary. Turning to Brooklyn and Jordan, she pointed at the mouthwatering cupcakes. “Do you two have a favorite flavor?” she asked, hoping their excitement would overshadow her own nervousness.

When Mishka asks about the kids, his attention turns to them. Their cheerful chatter breaks through the undercurrent of his inner turmoil. They ramble on about their favourite flavours, unaware of the emotional storm their dad is going through. He interrupts, half-heartedly saying, "Brooklyn loves the red velvet. Jordan can't resist the chocolate one." The warmth that usually fills his words now carries a touch of sadness, an involuntary sign of his heartbreak. Mishka's lingering presence, so friendly and heartwarming, yet painfully temporary, intensifies his longing, gnawing at the edges of his guarded façade. But he presses on, hoping his smiles can hide the tragedy etched in his heart.

“Demir has always hated me,” she admitted, her words hanging in the air like the heaviness of the evening. She looked into the distance, as if trying to find a safe place away from the hurtful things her brother had said. “Just a few weeks ago, he said some really mean things to me. He said I’ve been nothing but a source of sadness in his life ever since I was born.”

His mind swirls with the seriousness of the situation - her pain is real and he wishes he could protect her from it. It's like a heavy stone dropped into a calm pond, causing ripples inside him. He needs to help her understand that she's not alone in this.

Turning back to him, she gestured to the laughing kids. "Look at them, how happy they are. You could have that again, you know. Someone to share your life with. I think they would want that for you. It's not so bad once you give it a try." Her cheeks reddened at his words and her thoughts went straight to Zach. “That’s because I’m dating now.” She admitted bashfully.

"Oh, so that's what's going on," he jokes playfully, chuckling. "All of a sudden, you've caught the love bug and you're trying to spread it to everyone." He turns towards her directly, his gaze gentle yet inquisitive. His friendly and open manner hides the whirlwind of thoughts in his mind - questions, memories, and concerns. But the prevailing emotion is genuine happiness for his old friend. "That's fantastic, Haz. I mean it," he confirms, looking straight into her eyes and showing sincerity on his face. "So, who's the lucky guy?"

Hazal was a woman who often felt unsure about many things, but in this moment, standing in the warm and cozy comfort of her own kitchen, with Zach’s strong arms wrapped around her waist, she had no doubts whatsoever. It felt so right, more than right—it felt like she belonged here. Her heart was beating fast in her chest, not out of fear, but because of the thrilling excitement and joy she had never experienced before.

They were preparing a rustic Italian pasta, the kind you’d find in those old Italian restaurants in Rome or Naples. She was busy chopping fresh basil, dicing ripe tomatoes, and adding them to a pan sizzling with garlic-infused olive oil, while she took care of the pasta. The smell of the simmering sauce was incredible, a tempting blend of simple and natural flavors that transported her to a time she had only ever read about.

And then, as she stirred the sauce, he embraced her from behind, his hands feeling smooth and warm against her skin. His breath tickled her neck, causing delightful shivers to run down her spine. “Zach…” she playfully scolded, although there was a smile forming on her lips. The world outside ceased to exist; it was just the two of them in that kitchen, engulfed in the warmth of their cooking and their blossoming love for each other. It was perfect, it was them, and Hazal wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

Setting the pasta aside on the counter, Zach stands behind Hazal and wraps his arms around her waist. His fingers lightly brush against the exposed skin where her dress ends, sending a thrilling shiver down his spine. He leans in to nuzzle her neck, planting gentle kisses along its slope. Her sharp intake of breath sounds like a sweet melody to his ears, bringing a smile to his lips.His smile deepens as she whispers his name, and his eyes crinkle with amusement. He can feel her heartbeat against his chest, matching his own rhythm. It's a comforting reminder of their feelings. 

"Mmm... yes... do you need something from me, sweetheart?" he whispers, teasing more than asking. The scent of her shampoo, mixed with the rich aromas of simmering tomatoes, garlic, and basil, is intoxicating, pulling him closer to the edge of madness. Their little world seems to shrink, enveloping them in warmth and affection. A profound sense of contentment washes over him as he realises that this - Hazal, their shared laughter, the comfort of her kitchen - is what he has been yearning for. And as he continues to shower her neck with gentle kisses, he knows he wouldn't trade this moment for anything.

When she came back, she gently linked her arm through his, feeling his strong muscles under the jacket. Her heart pounded as he led her towards his car parked on the street, her heels making a clicking sound on the pavement. They settled into the car, and the cool leather seats felt refreshing against her skin. “So, where are we going?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady. She stole a quick look at him, noticing the anticipation in his warm brown eyes. The air between them felt charged, full of possibilities and things left unsaid.

He's sure it'll make her even more excited. Before she can utter a word, he cuts her off. "Nadya, I reckon our evening should match your poshness. Only the best, yeah?" His voice unintentionally deepens, adding a touch of flirtation. A strange shyness takes hold of her, and their eyes lock, conveying a sense of admiration that he dares to interpret. He responds with a charming smile. "No need to worry 'bout the place, alright? It's a date and I'm paying." He admits, his eyes softening. A moment of silence fills the air as his confession hangs between them, the faint hum of the car and the distant sounds of the night their only company. Shifting his focus back to the road, a renewed anticipation takes hold of him, painting a clear picture of the evening to come. He's determined to make it a perfect night.

At that moment, Prescott’s face tightened when she mentioned his wife, and she felt a pang of empathy. Did he have some hidden pain inside? She wanted to ask, but they knew the limit they had set. They had to choose their words carefully, avoiding anything too personal, like dancers following a precise choreography. “They are truly wonderful,” She gently added, looking back at the children. “There’s a part of you in each of them.” Time seemed to slow down at the playground, with the bright colors of the slides, swings, and the noise of other kids fading away. Her focus was solely on Brooklyn, Jordan, and Prescott. Then, Jordan’s voice interrupted their thoughts, asking hopefully for cupcakes.

Mishka saw the silent plea in Prescott’s eyes, as if he wanted her to say no. Caught off guard, she hesitated, feeling a rush of conflicting emotions. They didn’t want to leave this bubble of happiness, but they understood the importance of respecting Prescott’s boundaries. Their heart ached with an unspoken longing, wishing for a different reality. “I…” She started, then paused, looking at Prescott. “Work can wait,” they finally said, forcing a smile for Jordan. “But only if I can join in the cupcake fun. Deal?”

A glimmer of hope sneaks into Prescott's mind. Maybe this is his chance to break free, to escape from the overwhelming pressure of the playground and the unwelcome memories it brings. He turns to her, trying to find a way out and adding that maybe Mishka probably wants to get back to work. He hopes she'll understand his hidden plea. His heart tightens as she hesitates, his hopes rising for a moment before she casually brushes off his concerns. "Work can wait," she announces, and Prescott's stomach churns at the false promise of her joining the cupcake adventure. His polite facade starts to crack, and he barely manages to keep his disappointment from seeping into his voice. "Sure, why not," he forces out, each word tasting like vinegar.

As they walk towards the cupcake shop, the sweet aroma of baked goods surrounding them in a sickeningly pleasant haze. Having to spend time with Mishka for a long period makes his head spin. He swallows his irritation and answers each one, all the while struggling with the bitter taste of a past he can't escape and a present he never wanted. The jingling sound of the shop bell rings in his ears, a discordant melody playing alongside the chaos unfolding within him.

Nadya was a rollercoaster of emotions all day long, feeling really jittery and uncertain—despite being a pretty calm individual. Usually sketching was her safe place, but today everything she drew seemed off and all her ideas seemed boring. She stared at the designs, feeling disappointed just like the messy lines on the paper. She couldn’t get behind these pieces at all, let alone show them to her clients. She left work early and went back to her house, feeling frustrated. She tried to distract herself by picking out an outfit for the evening. But she couldn’t shake off her nerves. This was Griffin. He was annoying, yet she still had his kiss from yesterday on her mind. Remembering it made her stomach flutter with butterflies and her heart race—making her cheeks flush.

After a long debate inside her head, she finally chose a dress that said a lot about her—a red number that was equally classy and confidence boosting. It was just right for a date—fashionable but not too formal. When she looked at herself in the mirror, she felt a bit better. It was already seven o'clock when the doorbell rang loudly through her quiet home. She stole one last look at herself, fixing a strand of hair, and then headed toward the door. Her nervousness was almost too much as she reached for the doorknob, feeling anxious and thrilled at the same time. Opening the door, she peered at Griffin standing there, looking hot as sin. With a voice that was almost steady, she greeted, “You’re on time. I thought you’d be late.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, he shuts his work laptop, glad to be done with it. Time to sort out a reservation at 'The Estuary,' a swanky joint with epic views of the shoreline of Kings Haven. Sweat trickles down his palms as he seals the deal, feeling this mad excitement bubbling up inside him. With great care, he picks out his outfit for the evening. He settles on a sharp navy blazer, hugging his frame just right, over a fresh white shirt, dark jeans, and shiny black brogues. Not too fancy, but definitely not laid-back. He checks himself out in the mirror, grinning like a loon. The look's spot on, giving off an easy cool vibe.

An hour later, clutching a bunch of ruby-red roses that match Nadya's vibrant soul, Griffin steps out into the cool night air. He's striding towards Nadya's place, feeling those butterflies getting all wild in his gut. When Nadya opens the door, his breath catches in his throat. She's glowing, her red dress popping against her creamy skin. She's got this enchanting beauty that almost makes him forget where he is. He can't help but drink in her curves, heat rising up the back of his neck. Shaking himself out of his trance, he forces a smile.

Handing her the bouquet, he lets out a light chuckle. "I never keep a lady waiting, can't I?" he says, his brown eyes sparkling with excitement and anticipation. Stepping back, he glances at his ride parked on the street, then back at her. "Ready to get out of here?" he asks, offering his arm.