He woke the next morning to the shriek of his ringing phone. It complained insistently about not being answered; Kris blinked, whimpered as sunlight hit his eyeballs, whimpered again as his back protested about having spent the night on the couch, and flailed for electronics. “H’llo?”
“Did I wake you up I’m so sorry and also I wanted to say I’m sorry and I didn’t mean to snap at you,” pleaded Justin’s voice, in a rush.
“What—” Kris lurched more upright, stared wildly at the clock, cringed. Ten-sixteen in the morning. And Justin had called first. To apologize.
To apologize—?
“I’m really sorry,” Justin said, miserable and hurried. “That was unprofessional of me and I know you were stressed and I shouldn’t…I should…well, I should be. Um. Professional. Like you said. I have to go but I wan
