I felt the stress leave my shoulders. “That sounds great. But what about Darren?”
He frowned. “What about him?”
I looked away. “Don’t you want to see him or something?”
He bumped me with his shoulder. “He’s under strict instruction to stay away tonight. I figured it could just be the two of us. Besides, I spent almost two weeks straight with it just being me and him. I swear to god, if I have to be in his presence for any length of time for the next few days, I won’t be responsible for what I’ll do to him.”
I thought that was a lot of bullshit, but I was touched. “You sure?”
He smiled at me. “I’m sure. I could do for a quiet night in. How does naan pizza sound?”
I frowned. “I don’t know. What is… that?”
He shrugged. “Something hipsters have undoubtedly appropriated. There was a flyer in the mail with a coupon.”
“Music to my ears.”
“Good,” he said. “Go get changed into something comfy and plop yourself on the couch. I’ll take care of the rest.”
He shoved me toward my room, and I told myself that I wasn’t going to think about Jeremy Olsen for the rest of the night.
AND I succeeded.
Mostly.
Granted, one cannot be in control of one’s dreams, and the less said about mine the better. It was some wannabe freaky Fifty Shades of Grey bullshit, which was weird, because I’d never read those books or seen the movies. My brain sucked.
Which is also why I found myself wide-awake in the kitchen at six the next morning, telling myself that it was good to be up this early. That instead of slopping out of bed after hitting the snooze button multiple times, getting up right away would engender a newer, better me.
It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that the large window in the kitchen had a perfect view of the street, whereas my bedroom window pointed toward the wall in the small backyard.
“Ahh,” I said, taking a sip of my coffee. “Perfect.”
I wasn’t staring out the window.
I wasn’t keeping an eye on the time, knowing between six fifteen and six thirty was a good time for joggers to jog right by the house.
Instead I sent a text message to Ty: Hey, remember that time Sandy turned my room into a sex dungeon for you and Dom when you couldn’t talk about your feelings yet? That was awesome.
I got a bunch of angry emojis in response.
“Ahh,” I said again, and if I just happened to look out the window I was standing in front of, it was because I was taking in the world-famous Arizona sunrise. The sky was beautiful. I could hear birds singing outside. A woman walked by with her tiny little rat dog on a leash. I waved at her. She waved back.
Yes, it was the perfect morning. A great way to start my day. Perhaps I should have a banana. Potassium was good for the body.
It was while I was peeling the banana and not staring out the window that a voice said from behind me, “Do I even want to know?”
I smiled brightly over my shoulder. Sandy was shuffling into the kitchen, face slack with sleep. He was wearing a frilly robe that should have been much longer than it actually was. I didn’t feel like pointing out I could see the outline of his balls through his underwear. I was a good friend. “Good morning!”
He eyed me suspiciously. “Uh-huh. What’s all this?” He waved a hand in my general direction.
“Just getting an early start to my day!”
“Riiiight,” he said slowly. “So you’re not up to anything?”
“Why, whatever do you mean? I’m just here with my coffee.”
“And your banana.”