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His hand pressed more firmly over his chest.
“But my whole body knows I’m supposed to find you.”
My eyes burned.
I reached for him and stopped inches from his neck.
“May I touch you?”
He nodded.
I cupped the side of his neck.
Noah leaned into my palm before I had fully settled it against his skin.
The response seemed instinctive.
Older than conscious thought.
Ours.
“What did it mean?” he asked.
“At first? Lunch.”
A broken laugh escaped him.
“Of course.”
“Then it became how we found each other when the yard was loud.”
“Did I answer you?”
“You whistled back.”
“I can’t do it.”
“You used both hands.”
“My left is trapped.”
“You’ll learn another way.”
His throat moved.
“What did it mean when I answered?”
“I’m here.”
His eye filled again.
“And when you called?”
“Come find me.”
Noah lowered his forehead to mine.
I stayed perfectly still beneath the contact.
