Five
Thanks to J.T.’s healing touch, the rest of my night was dreamless. I woke, feeling more alert than I had in weeks. J.T. was already out of bed and I followed the smell of sizzling bacon and sausage to the kitchen. He’d rewarmed the midnight pot of coffee and laid scrambled eggs on a plate along with the breakfast meats.
“I should apologize for stuff more often,” I said as I accepted the cup of coffee and dug into the food.
“Not exactly what I was hoping to hear,” he replied and joined me at the table.
“I swear, I didn’t realize I was doing it again,” I said, taking his left hand in my right.
“That’s the frustrating thing. I know you didn’t, but it still doesn’t mean I believe this time is going to be any different.”
“Of course, it will. I’m not a teenager anymore, J.T. I know w
