Chapter 42Steve
The next time I woke up, it took me a while to realize I was still in Adam’s bed.
God, these Vicodin hangovers are even worse than a migraine hangover!
Adam’s side of the bed was completely empty. But the big, warm, fuzzy ball of black fur curled up against my waist felt pretty nice.
I reached out and retrieved my glasses from the nightstand, to make sure I was dealing with a cat and not some rabid chimpanzee. The big, green eyes blinking back at me made me smile.
“Hey, kitty,” I muttered, rubbing her head.
While she purred and stretched, I tried to sit up. I gasped, but for once, it wasn’t purely from the pain in my chest.
On the other side of the room, there was an old lady in a white nightgown, seated in front of the antique dressing table. She was slowly running
