BLAKE
I wake and I can smell coffee. Real coffee. The kind she makes, not the espresso machine I usually use. She's been awake for a while, I think. Long enough to find the coffee grounds. Long enough to figure out how to use my kitchen.
Long enough to decide that she's staying.
I get out of bed and I follow the smell to the kitchen.
Elle is making breakfast.
She's in one of my t-shirts. Just my t-shirt. The hem hits mid-thigh. Her legs are bare. Her hair is messy like she just woke up and ran her hands through it. She's barefoot on my tile floor, and she's moving around my kitchen like she belongs there.
Like she's been living here for months instead of one night.
She's humming. Softly. I don't think she knows she's doing it.
Something inside me settles. Something that's been woun
