Leaning against the door frame, I watch him look for the coffee grounds and finally take pity on him when he begins peeking inside the cereal boxes. “I’m out of coffee.”
Drew pauses. “Since when?”
I shrug.
“Alright, then.” He gives me a stubborn look. “We’ll have tea.”
“I don’t have—”
Unfortunately, before I can finish my sentence, he opens one of the small tins on the counter and retrieves two lavender tea bags. His expression turns into a grimace, and I point out, “You’re not a tea person, Drew. Why’re you doing this?”
He gives me a hard look. “You need a friend right now. I don’t know what has happened, but you clearly need somebody to talk to. You’re always there for me and Tim, so I want to be here for you.”
I want to argue with him, but for a brief moment, some of the loneline
