He seemed embarrassed by the confession.
“How?”
“When you’re there, I don’t have to keep checking everything.”
“What do you check?”
“Where I am. Whether I’m safe. What I’m supposed to do next.”
His gaze moved toward the green lamp.
“You carry part of the room for me.”
The words lodged beneath my ribs.
“I can do that.”
“I know.”
He lifted my hand and touched his mouth to the back of it.
The kiss was clumsy because of the angle.
It was still perfect.
We sat quietly for a while.
Then Noah said, “You haven’t asked me anything.”
“This date is for you to learn about me.”
“That is unfair.”
“How?”
“You already know me.”
“Not all of you.”
“Ask.”
I considered.
“What is one thing you like now that no one has told you to like?”
Noah looked surprised.
He thought.
The effort showed in the line between his brows.
“The sound of rain on these windows.”
I waited.
“Pear soda.”
“Good.”
