Angel stepped back from the doorway and let him in.
She turned as she walked and Noah's eyes went where they went before he made a conscious decision about it. The slip ended just below where it should have, the silk moving with her, her back bare all the way down to where the fabric caught. She glanced back over her shoulder and caught him looking and said nothing, just turned back and kept walking toward the living room.
They sat. Her on the couch, legs folded under her, the silk doing what silk did in low lighting. Him in the chair across from her with his elbows on his knees and his hands together.
She looked at him for a moment.
"Whatever problem just got your eyes off me," she said, "must be something serious. Because I spent a genuinely embarrassing amount of credits to look this good tonight."
Noah almost smiled. Almost.
"Sit," he said.
"I am sitting."
"Stay sitting. I need to tell you something."
