"Nothing," Adrian said, his voice clipped and entirely devoid of warmth. He kept his eyes locked on the amber liquid sloshing against the side of his glass, watching it settle as though the answer to his troubles might be found in its slow, swirling eddies.
The ice had long since melted, diluting the whiskey into something weak and amber-pale, but he hadn't noticed. "You just startled me, Lydia. That's all."
Lydia stood completely still for a second, her brows knitting together as a cold sensation settled in her chest. Startled him? They had been living together for months. They had shared a bed every single night.
She knew the rhythm of his breathing when he slept, the particular way he liked his coffee, the small groan he gave when he stretched in the morning. She knew the geography of him, or thought she did, every scar and habit mapped out like territory she'd claimed. Since when did her touch make him flinch like he'd been burned by boiling water?
