Kane's heart did a small flip at the word "home." When had Cyrus's penthouse started feeling like that?
"Yeah," he said, settling back into the leather seat. "Home sounds perfect."
Cyrus pulled out of the parking garage, the city lights streaming past the windows in golden streaks.
The silence between them felt comfortable now, charged with possibility rather than tension.
Kane studied Cyrus's profile in the dashboard's soft glow—the sharp line of his jaw, the way his fingers drummed absently against the steering wheel.
"So," Kane said, unable to keep the teasing note from his voice. "Romance novels, huh?"
Cyrus's grip tightened on the wheel, but his mouth quirked upward.
"You're never going to let me live that down."
"Not a chance. I'm thinking we need to expand your research. Maybe some rom-coms next time?"
"Absolutely not."
"Come on. I bet you'd love the airport chase scenes."
Cyrus shot him a sideways look that was equal parts exasperated and fond.
