You Have My Word
"Oh, cold!" Angela raised a finger when she saw that Gael was about to use a pot over the burner to warm the milk.
He looked at her, cocking a brow in question.
"I like my milk cold," she clarified from the other side of the kitchen island where she sat.
"Got it." He nodded, putting away the pot and then pouring the milk from the fridge into a glass. He slid it towards her, then opened himself a bottle of sparkling water, taking a swig while staying on the opposite side of the counter from her.
She took a sip of her cold milk and then nursed it with both of her hands. "I noticed you aren't smoking anymore… That's nice," she suddenly said.
"Have you been keeping an eye on me?" Gael smirked, setting the bottle on the counter behind him. He was leaning on the sink, crossing his arms and looking amused at her.