Leah was sprawled on Damien's couch, her phone in one hand and a bag of chips in the other, when she heard the front door open.
"Damien?" she called out.
"Yeah, it's me," Damien's voice came from the entryway.
Leah sat up, brushing chip crumbs off her shirt. A moment later, Damien appeared in the doorway, still in his work clothes, a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and dress pants. He looked tired but relaxed.
"How was work?" Leah asked.
"Long," Damien said, walking over and dropping into the armchair across from her. "But productive. How was your day?"
"Boring," Leah said, setting her phone down. "I watched three movies, ordered lunch, and online shopped."
Damien's eyebrows rose. "Online shopped? Again?"
Leah's cheeks flushed slightly. "Maybe."
"Leah," Damien said, h
