Jack is my teammate, he's my captain. And, as we've just discussed, he's my friend.

Of course, none of that makes me blind, and I can't say watching him lick off that spoon has me entirely unaffected. At least he can't smell it on me like I know Derek can so I'm relatively sure he doesn't notice when I have to turn away to pour half the batter in my cast iron skillet.

I only glance back when I'm fairly sure my cheeks are a little less pink, catching Elvis licking Jack's finger clean. "If he bites you, it's your own fault," I tell him with a grin before scattering bits of caramel over the mix. "And, you know, running isn't a bad idea. I have a friend here, Thomas -- I'll have to introduce you to him soon -- he likes to run. I kept promising him I'd join him a few times a week, but I've never been able to do it. But maybe you and I could start?"