Almost Yours
He locked the phone and slid it into the drawer.
“Everything okay?” he asked, casual.
“Yes,” she said. “I was just thinking.”
“About what?”
She turned her head slightly, meeting his eyes in the dim light. “About how people show you who they are without ever saying it.”
Dennis stiffened. “That sounds loaded.”
“Does it?”
He exhaled. “You’re reading too much into things again.”
Again.
She let the word pass.
The next morning, Rihanna left early. She had an appointment downtown—final paperwork, another confirmation ticked off her list. London felt closer every time she signed her name.