Zara woke the next morning with the ghost of Noah’s fingers between hers. When he’d reached over and held her hand, Zara had no idea what to think. She’d wanted to talk about it, but he’d playfully avoided her.
And in the end, she didn’t need to discuss everything to death. He obviously felt the same current between them that she did, and he’d acted on it. Did that need to be hashed out?
After that, though, Zara had barely been able to concentrate on the movie. Her nerves marched through her body like they were on a parade route, and one of her favorite movies had passed quickly.
His hands had been full as they’d gone back upstairs, and she’d lingered in the doorway of the kitchen while he threw bottles in the trash can and rinsed out the bowl. “See you in the morning,” she’d said, taki
