Marlowe
Nova walked into the garage forty minutes later without knocking, took one look at the two of us sitting considerably closer together than professional distance required, and threw both hands over her own eyes with theatrical horror.
"Nope. Didn't see anything. Absolutely did not walk in on whatever this energy is." She backed toward the door, still covering her eyes, grinning despite herself. "I'll just — I'll come back. Later. Much later. Possibly next week."
"Nova, we're just talking."
"Sure you are." She peeked through her fingers, unable to help herself. "You've got the exact same look my sister gets after she and her husband have a big fight and then don't leave the bedroom for two days. I know that look, Finch. I'm not judging. I'm just leaving."
She left, laughing, and
