Page 61 of The Valentine Agenda

"What are you working on?" he asked, glancing at her folders.

"Layout plans. For the display boards." She set them on a nearby table. "Some of the children are shorter than others, so I need to make sure everyone's art is at the right height for them to present..."

She trailed off, realizing she was rambling. But James was looking at her with genuine interest.

"Show me?"

Hannah hesitated. But it was late, and the building was quiet, and James had a smudge of something on his cheek that made him look impossibly human.

She spread out the diagrams. "Tommy's grandfather uses a wheelchair, so his display needs to be lower. And Sarah wants her grandparents to be able to read her artist statement without straining..."

James moved closer, studying the layouts. He smelled like coffee and metal and that soft sweater. "You've thought of everything."

"Not everything." She reached to adjust a paper, and their hands brushed. The contact sent electricity up her arm. "The lighting's still not quite right for—"

"The seniors' vision problems?" He was standing very close now. "I noticed. I have some ideas about that, actually."

Hannah turned to look at him and immediately wished she hadn't. His hair was rumpled, like he'd been running his fingers through it. That smudge was still on his cheek. Her fingers itched to wipe it away.

"Hannah." His voice was rough. "I—"

A loud clang from the radiator made them both jump. Steam hissed angrily.

James swore under his breath, diving back to his tools. Hannah pressed a hand to her chest, trying to slow her racing heart.

"I should go," she said quickly. "It's late, and I have class tomorrow..."

"Right. Of course." He was focused on the radiator again, but she saw the tension in his shoulders. "I'll just finish this up."

Hannah gathered her papers with trembling fingers. She was almost to the door when his voice stopped her.

"The layouts are perfect," he said softly. "They're going to love it."

She didn't turn around. Couldn't risk seeing that genuine warmth in his eyes again. "Thank you."

"Hannah?"

"Yes?"

"Sleep well."

She fled before she could do something stupid like clean the smudge off his cheek. Or tell him how much it meant that he noticed things like radiator sounds and lighting problems. Or run her own hands through his messy, beautiful hair.

She didn't sleep that night either.

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"He's helping old ladies with their groceries now?" Sophie's voice was heavy with skepticism. They sat in Hannah's apartment, takeout containers spread across her coffee table. "James Park? The same James Park who left you with an eight-hundred-dollar bill on Valentine's Day?"

Hannah pushed her pad thai around with her fork. "And fixing things. The sticky door in the library, the drafty window in the community room—"

"Han." Sophie set down her chopsticks. "You know what this is, right?"

"Community service?" Hannah tried for lightness, but even she could hear the uncertainty in her voice.

"It's a performance. Like Nero's, but in reverse. Instead of using you to make his ex jealous, he's using elderly residents to prove he's changed."

Hannah wanted to argue, but the words stuck in her throat. Because she'd seen James in the community room yesterday, carefully helping Mr. Thompson with his crossword puzzle. He was wearing a dark henley with jeans. He'd looked... real.

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