“The couch carries fewer associations.”
“Our couch carries several associations.”
I remembered the fragments he had recovered from Alder Cove and kept my attention on the road.
“Fewer than the bed.”
“That is probably true.”
“You can remain upright. Your hip will be supported. Either of us can stop without climbing over the other.”
“You have considered this.”
“Every hour since you first asked about sex.”
Color climbed his neck.
“Is that difficult?”
“What?”
“Wanting me and having to plan around all of this.”
I considered lying.
“No.”
He gave me a tired look.
“Yes,” I corrected. “Sometimes.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Do not apologize.”
“I keep making you wait.”
“You are not making me do anything.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do.”
I reached across the console.
Noah placed his hand in mine.
“I miss pieces of our old physical life,” I said. “I also value what we are building now.”
“What are we building?”
“You ask me to kiss you as though the answer matters.”
“It does.”
“It always mattered. Before the accident, we were fluent. Now we say the words aloud.”
“Is that better?”
