The morning sun streaming through my balcony doors was far too cheerful for my current mood. My ankle throbbed, a reminder of last night's drama. I'd barely slept, replaying that moment in the storm shelter over and over – Calvin's gentle touch, the look in his eyes, the words he'd been about to say before we were interrupted.
A knock at my door startled me from my thoughts. Daniel stood there with coffee and what looked like fresh pastries.
"Thought you might want breakfast in bed," he smiled. "How's the ankle?"
"Better," I lied, accepting the coffee gratefully. "You didn't have to do this."
"I wanted to." He sat on the edge of my bed, close but not too close. "Besides, we need to talk about the Anderson project. The board meeting is next week, and they're eager to hear your presentation."
Right. The project. My future. The thing I should be focusing on instead of remembering how Calvin's heart had felt beating under my palm.
