The next morning, I wake up groaning at my stupidity. Last night, I ate and drank too much. My head is killing me and I feel bloated and gross. I need a three-hour shower. But when I walk into the downstairs bathroom, I find Danny already occupying it.
The shower is going and the room is getting filled with steam, while Danny is the most ridiculous sight wrapped in my fluffy pink towel, with my feathery pink slippers on his feet, and wearing fogged-over sunglasses.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
He turns to me. “Oh, morning, sunshine. I was getting ready to shower, but I forgot my razor in my room so I had to go back.” Danny wiggles a foot at me. “Thank you for lending me your slippers.”
And my favorite towel, I add in my head.
“How long will you be? I want to shower, too.”
Danny rais
