Sage
I watched her from the couch as she lingered in the doorway, arms crossed like a shield, eyes flicking over me before darting away again. She looked small in those pajamas, soft cotton that swallowed her frame, but there was steel in her posture, even if it was brittle.
She came closer, hesitant steps on the hardwood.
“Eve,” I said, my voice low with a hint of tease I couldn’t quite suppress, “are you going to talk? Or just stare at my handsome face all night?”
She scoffed, shaking her head. “You are so full of yourself.”
I leaned back, smirking. “Then do you want me to be half of myself?”
She didn’t laugh. Just rolled her eyes, the annoyance clear, but there was no real heat behind it. Not tonight.
Then her expression shifted—serious, guarded. She took a breath. “Let me be ser
