“I gestured at my litre of fizzy red wine. “Want a drop of this?” I asked him.No thanks. I try not to drink at lunchtime.”So do I. But I never quite make it.”I feel like shit all day if I drink at lunchtime.”Me too. But I feel like shit all lunchtime if I don’t.”Yes, well it all comes down to choices, doesn’t it?” he said. “It’s the same in the evenings. Do you want to feel good at night or do you want to feel good in the morning? It’s the same with life. Do you want to feel good young or do you want to feel good old? One or the other, not both.”Isn’t it a tragedy?”

“What do you mean?" he said. "Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is a morning to be good on?”

“Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is a morning to be good on?”

“Please, Noah, I don't want to do this wrong. Tell me how to make you feel good."He shifted so that his body rested beside mine, his leg and arm still draped over me. I felt small under his warmth and strength. His chocolate-brown eyes softened. "Being with you feels good. Touching you-" he tucked a curl behind my ear. "-feels good. I have never wanted anyone like I want you. There's nothing you can do wrong when just breathing makes everything right.”

“Do you like my name? he asked. "yes, I do," I replied. "Good, because one day soon, I want to give it to you.”

“You look good.""You look like shit.""That's how I feel.""Good. What do you want?"He gave her a faint smile. "To tell you how much I love you, Izzy. I probably have from the first moment we met.”