Page 270 of Worth the Trip

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“You smiling.”

“I like this.”

“Me reading?”

“This.”

I gestured between us.

He closed the book around one finger.

“You gon’ have to narrow that down.”

I considered it.

“My books are on your nightstand.”

“Three stacks.”

“Your coffee is in my kitchen.”

“’Cause yours tastes like dessert.”

“You have a drawer at my house.”

“You got two at mine.”

“You leave a charger in my bedroom.”

“You stole mine first.”

“You have a key.”

“So do you.”

I looked at him.

“Exactly.”

His thumb moved lazily along the ankle resting across his thigh.

For months, I had assumed the answer to distance would eventually require one of our lives becoming more convenient for the other. Crème & Chill Self Springs brought me here more often, but the store had not solved anything between us.

We had never needed solving.

“I think I finally figured something out.”

“That sounds dangerous.”

“Behave.”

“I’m listening.”

I looked around the shop before returning my attention to him.