Eve
We drank in companionable quiet for a while longer, the coffee growing cold between us, the café slowly emptying as the afternoon bled into early evening. Eventually, I set my cup down and pushed my chair back. “Goodnight, Sage,” I said, offering him a small, careful smile before turning toward the door.
I’d only taken two steps when his hand closed gently but firmly around my arm.
My eyes widened as I turned back to him. The touch was warm and familiar, and it sent a quiet jolt through me—something I hadn’t felt in a year.
“Your number hasn’t been going through,” he said, voice low and steady.
I swallowed. He’d been trying to reach me? The thought landed somewhere soft and unguarded in my chest. But why? “I changed it,” I answered, keeping my tone light, almost indifferent.
“Why
