Page 49 of Rook
Noah didn’t look at the sign.
His attention stayed on her, a look too direct to ignore. The kind of look that made her spine lengthen and her pulse thrum in a way she couldn’t hide.
“You are,” he said quietly.
Avery’s fingers curled at her sides, a small, involuntary movement she hoped he didn’t notice.He did. His gaze dipped to her hands, then back to her face, something tightening in his jaw.
The space between them felt different now, not empty, not neutral. Charged. Like the air had thickened, pulling them toward each other.
She swallowed, her voice softer than she meant. “Noah… can I ask you something?”
He stepped closer, not touching her, but close enough that she felt the heat radiating from him. His shoulders squared slightly, a subtle shift that told her he was bracing for whatever came next.
“Yeah,” he said. “Ask.”
Avery lifted her chin, meeting his eyes. “Why didn’t you fight for me? Back then?”
Noah’s expression changed, not dramatically, but in the small ways she’d learned to read years ago. His shoulders tightened. His fingers flexed once at his sides. His gaze drifted away for a moment, like the truth was something he had to pull up from somewhere deep.
“I wanted to,” he said. “More than anything.” His voice was low, steady, but there was a rough edgebeneath it, not anger, something older. “But you were leaving for something bigger. Something you deserved. And I…” His jaw shifted. “I didn’t want to be the reason you stayed and wondered what you missed.”
Avery’s chest tightened. “I wouldn’t have regretted you.”
That made him look at her again — really look. His eyes darkened, not with anger, but with something heavier. Something he’d been carrying alone for too long.
“You don’t know that,” he said.
“I do,” she whispered.
He moved before he seemed to think about it, a small step, closing the last inches between them. His hand lifted, hesitated, then brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. His fingertips grazed her skin, warm and deliberate, lingering just long enough to make her breath catch in her throat.
Her body reacted before her mind did, a subtle shift toward him, her shoulders softening, her chest rising as if pulled by gravity.
Noah noticed. His eyes dropped to her mouth for a fraction of a second, then snapped back up, tension tightening the muscles along his neck.
“Aves…” His voice was low, strained. “If I’d asked you to stay… would you have?”
She didn’t look away. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t hide.
“Yes.”
The word settled between them like a spark landing on dry tinder.
Noah’s posture changed, a slight forward lean, a tightening in his grip on the edge of the counter beside them, like he needed something solid to hold onto. His eyes softened and sharpened at the same time, a contradiction she felt all the way down to her toes.
For a moment, she thought he might close the distance. For a moment, she wanted him to.
Noah didn’t move. He just stood there, every line of his body tight, like he was holding himself in place through sheer force of will. His hand curled once at his side, a small, restrained motion that toldher exactly how close he was to reaching for her again.
Then Noah stepped back. Slow. Deliberate. Like he was pulling himself out of a moment he wasn’t sure he could walk away from twice.
His gaze held hers, steady and unguarded, something raw flickering there before he shut it down.
“I should let you get back to it,” he said, voice low but even. “You’ve done good here today.”
Avery nodded, though nothing about the moment felt finished. Her pulse was still unsteady, her skin still warm from the nearness of him.
Noah shifted his weight, hands sliding into his pockets like he needed somewhere to put them before they made a choice he wasn’t ready for.
