“No, it’s not.” She works the other jacket onto my shoulders. “Wait, is it?”
I jerk my head eloquently towards the window.
April pales. “Where’s the sun?”
I hang on the last thread of my patience. “As much as I’d love to explain basic astronomy to you—”
“Shh.” She puts a finger to my lips. “Don’t breathe. Your chest’s gonna move.”
I’m honestly speechless. No one has ever shushed me. Me. Matvey f*****g Groza.
But before I can teach April a lesson, her face breaks into a grin. “I knew it! Client’s got your same measurements.”
“You kept your notes from when we met?”
“No need,” April shrugs. “I remember yours by heart.”
I inhale sharply. By heart. All this time, and April’s had my f*****g measurements floating around in her head? She memorized them?
It’s been nearly ten months. Ten
