Chapter 2I’ve always had a philosophy that you can gauge how interested you are in someone by what you wake up and think about the next morning.
Sometimes, you wake up groggy and can only think about your immediate responsibilities for the day, or wonder if your mom calls will she sense you’re with someone, or just plain wishing that whoever is lying next to you would wake up and get the hell out.
When I woke up the next morning on the couch with Janine, I smiled. My auto re-play had gone on all night long, and I couldn’t help internally singing “There’s a rose in Brooklyn Heights” along with Aretha’s rendition of “Spanish Harlem.” That was followed by a strong desire to cook her an extravagant breakfast, and I took a mental inventory of what was available in my fridge. Despite my nightl
