Selena blinked back into the present, realizing the car had come to a stop at an intersection.

Ahead, the traffic light glowed red.

She slipped her hand out of Zavier’s grasp, turning her face toward the window with an air of detachment. Her voice was clipped. “I wasn’t thinking about anything.”

Zavier studied her profile, the muted lines of her expression, and felt a vague discomfort creeping into his chest.

His mind wandered back ...