The traffic dragged on, the lines of cars stretching out ahead of us like a river of brake lights, and I honestly didn't know if I wanted it to speed up or if I was grateful for the excuse to stay longer in this quiet bubble with Zaya.
The air between us was thick, not with the awkwardness I'd felt earlier, but something softer, warmer, and so much harder to describe.
I tried to focus on anything other than the butterflies that seemed to have taken up permanent residence in my stomach after the way Zaya had touched my hair and murmured those few words.
I could still feel her fingers lightly against my skin, like a faint memory of warmth that wouldn't leave me.
I tried to keep my face neutral, afraid that she might notice the ridiculous smile threatening to break free if I let myself think too long about the way she'd tucked that stray piece of hair behind my ear.
