Ava’s POV

“What picture,” he asked slowly, “are you moaning to?”

My heart banged against my ribs so hard I felt it in my throat. In the same second I locked the screen, opened the photo gallery, and scrolled hard and fast until his own face filled the display — a smiling picture from last Christmas that I had never cared enough to delete.

My fingers were still slick from what I had been doing. I stood up so quickly the phone almost slipped from my hand and turned the screen toward him, forcing a shaky, practiced smile to my face.

“Yours,” I said. “I was looking at yours.”

He...