Kyle pulls his hand away from her, not defensively but in the interest of moving on entirely. He recognizes her reaction for what it is and knows he already pushed it too far. Classic Kyle. He shakes his head a little, at himself, and straightens from the counter to check on the food, pulling up the lid to stir around the vegetables for a bit and adjusting the heat.

"Looks ready for the spinach," he adds, turning to retrieve the package from the fridge. If Kyle's good at one thing, it's ignoring all potential awkwardness and plowing ahead as if everything's normal. Still the jock in that sense: playing dumb works wonders. "Do you want to check the pasta? Grab a spoon, pull a piece out, and see if it tastes right."