“Did you mean it?” Noah tried to think back to the million things he could have meant. “Mean what?” Adam put the car in park and then turned in the seat to look at Noah. “The text message. Did you mean it?” Noah could feel himself flushing. “Which part?” he hedged. Adam grinned. “The part where you said you loved me?” Noah’s gaze dropped to his lap, his heart pounding. He clutched his hands together to stop them from shaking. How was that question more stressful than murder? “I don’t know. Maybe?” Adam chucked his finger under Noah’s chin, forcing him to meet his gaze. “You maybe love me?”
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