“Did I kiss you?”
“Yes.”
His gaze dropped to my mouth.
The moment sharpened.
I did not move.
Noah’s eye lifted to mine.
He leaned forward a fraction.
Pain stopped him before choice did.
He sagged back with a quiet curse.
I steadied the chair, not his body.
“Too much.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re gray.”
“That sounds attractive.”
“It does not.”
Caleb appeared at the end of the hallway.
“Couch is ready.”
The interruption saved both of us.
We moved into the living room.
The apartment looked cleaner than it had in years. Caleb and Owen had cleared cords, removed the low coffee table, rolled up rugs, and shifted furniture to create a wide path.
The old couch faced the harbor windows.
A temporary reclining chair had been placed beside it.
Noah stared.
“You changed everything.”
“Only the dangerous parts.”
“Where was the table?”
“Here.”
He pointed.
“Did I know that?”
“It was in several photographs.”
