To Zane, her silence meant something else entirely.
After two years of near-constant companionship, he prided himself on having Joanne’s quirks and temper figured out.
When misunderstood by people she didn’t care about, she never bothered to explain.
Zane pulled a cigarette from his pocket, clamping it between his lips, but came up empty when searching for a lighter.
Joanne, ever attentive, popped open the car’s storage compartment, retrieved the lighter, and flicked it to life before offering the flame to him—a motion so routine it felt automatic.
Zane dipped his head to light up, exhaling smoke while studying her with a scrutinizing gaze.
She returned the lighter to its place, then cracked the window to let the haze escape. For some reason, the driver was taking his sweet time toni
