Judah barely looked at me when I opened the door to him, pushing past to enter without a word. I was more accustomed to seeing him in the tie he wore to work, but now it looked like it was strangling him. His hair was a mess, like he’d been running his fingers through it, and the muscles in his shoulders visibly bunched beneath his shirt.
He came to a halt at the edge of the room, his gaze jumping around to gauge his surroundings. My studio apartment isn’t much, definitely nowhere near as nice as his, but it’s serviceable and big enough for my needs. Where a bedroom area might be, I had two long wooden tables I’d reclaimed and refinished that I used for prep work and cooking. The sleeper in the couch served as a bed when I could be bothered to pull it out. These days, that didn’t happen v
