“Why?”
“Because anger wasn’t allowed to become uncertainty.”
He absorbed that.
“Did I kiss you?”
“Usually first.”
A faint smile touched his mouth.
I kept both hands at my sides.
“Good night, Noah.”
“Night.”
I turned toward the door.
“Reid.”
I stopped.
He looked almost embarrassed.
“Could you…”
He frowned, searching for the request.
I waited.
“Just here.”
He touched his forehead.
My heart tightened.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
I bent slowly.
My lips touched the center of his brow, below the edge of the healing scar.
The kiss was light.
Brief.
Noah exhaled beneath it.
When I straightened, his eye remained closed.
“Good night,” he whispered.
I left before hope could make me reckless.
Downstairs, Caleb and Owen had gone home. The yard sat silent beneath security lights. I spent an hour checking invoices and another pretending to check them while replaying the feel of Noah’s skin beneath my mouth.
