Lea leaned across the table, her eyes narrowing with gentle mischief. “Why do you keep doing that?” she asked, nodding toward his hands, his fingers dancing absently in the air, tracing invisible patterns.
Baron glanced down, realizing he’d been moving them again without thought. He paused, then flexed them slowly. “Old habit,” he said. “I hurt my hand once, in an accident. These are… rehab exercises.”
Her brows lifted, surprise giving way to concern. “An accident? That sounds serious. Are you okay now?”
He nodded, his tone quiet but steady. “I’m fine.” Nothing more.
She studied him for a moment, as if weighing whether to press for details. Instead, she smiled softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I had one too. Fell off my cycle when I was twelve. Hurt my knee badly. Thoug
