His gaze returns to the lamp.
“It’s yours?”
I stare at him.
“No. The underwear fairy left it.”
The corner of his mouth moves.
This time I see it.
My heart reacts with a level of enthusiasm that is honestly insulting.
“There,” I say. “That was a smile.”
“It wasn’t.”
“It had all the required components.”
He shakes his head once, but there is something warmer in his eyes now.
Then the living room lights flicker.
Once.
Twice.
Zain’s expression changes immediately. The almost smile disappears, and his gaze lifts toward the ceiling.
I wince.
He looks back at me. “That happen often?”
“Sometimes.”
His jaw tightens.
“It is an old house.”
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
I lean against the doorframe. “Maybe once every few days.”
“Call your landlord.”
“I have.”
“When?”
“Earlier this week.”
His eyes narrow.
“Kaia.”
“I left a message.”
“When?”
