“Marlowe’s ears.”
The dog lifted his head.
“Reid’s beard.”
Heat moved through my chest.
Noah’s cheeks colored.
“You asked.”
“I did.”
“What else?”
“The green lamp.”
His fingers shifted in mine.
“Not because I remember buying it. Because it means I’m here.”
“Anything else?”
He met my gaze.
“Hearing you come upstairs.”
I forgot every clever answer.
Noah looked away first.
“Your turn,” he said.
“My turn for what?”
“Something you like now. Not before.”
I thought of the last weeks.
“Your handwriting in the journal.”
“It’s awful.”
“It shows how hard you’re working.”
“That is sentimental.”
“Yes.”
“What else?”
“The way you call for me without apologizing first.”
“I still apologize.”
“Less.”
“Anything else?”
