“Toward what?”
“Warmth.”
“Light?”
“No.”
His brow tightened.
“Not light.”
“What does the warmth feel like?”
“Pressure.”
“Where?”
Noah touched the center of his chest.
“Here.”
Then his hand moved to the back of his neck.
“And here.”
I felt my pulse everywhere.
Maeve looked at me.
“Is there a physical association?”
“I used to touch him there.”
Noah opened his eye.
“Show me.”
I swallowed.
Maeve remained composed, though the request changed the intimacy of the room.
“You’re exhausted,” I said.
“Show me.”
“Ask clearly.”
His gaze stayed on mine.
“Will you put your hand where it used to go?”
I moved closer on the couch.
Slowly, I placed my palm at the base of his neck.
My thumb settled beneath his ear.
Noah inhaled.
