Morning light filtered through curtains Leighton had finally convinced Noah to buy. Real ones. Not the minimalist blinds he'd had before. These were soft. Blue-gray. Let in enough sun to wake naturally.
She opened her eyes. Noah's side of the bed was empty. Already up. She heard sounds from downstairs. Cabinets opening. The coffee maker beeping.
She stretched. Grabbed his shirt from the floor. Pulled it on. It smelled like him. Soap and cedar and something uniquely Noah.
Downstairs, he stood at the counter. Hair messy. Sweatpants low on his hips. Staring at the coffee maker like it had personally offended him.
"What's wrong?"
"It's making weird noises."
"Because you didn't put water in it."
"I put water in it."
She checked. The reservoir was empty. "You forgot."
"I was distracted.
