It started over dinner plans.
"Let's try that new Italian place," Noah said. He was driving. One hand on the wheel. The other resting on her thigh.
"I thought we agreed on sushi."
"I said maybe sushi. You like Italian."
"I also like sushi. Which is what I've been craving all day."
His jaw tightened. Barely. But she saw it. "Fine. Sushi."
"Don't do that."
"Do what?"
"Agree but make it sound like you're doing me a favor."
He pulled up to a red light. Looked at her. "I'm not. I genuinely don't care where we eat."
"Then why suggest Italian?"
"Because I thought you'd like it. There's a difference between having a preference and forcing one."
Her chest tightened. This was stupid. So stupid. But she couldn't let it go. "You always do this. Make suggestions then act like you're being f
