The old grandfather clock in the hallway struck midnight.
Nora should’ve been asleep. But sleep was impossible when her skin still tingled from the sound of her name on Adrian’s lips the night before.
She needed a distraction.
She crept down the hall in a big T-shirt and nothing underneath, pulling her hair into a messy bun. The apartment was dark, quiet, the only sound the low hum of the fridge. Her brother, thankfully, was out with friends—some last-minute poker night.
Good.
She padded into the living room, heading straight for the bookshelf Adrian always hovered around. His collection was huge, but it was the bottom shelf she wanted—dark red spines, old bindings. Erotica, classic and poetic. She’d seen the way his eyes lingered on those books when he thought no one was watching.
H
