Caleb
Lauren had canceled my nine o’clock appointment, just as I asked.
I helped myself to another strong cup of coffee and slumped down at my parent’s kitchen table.
“You look as if you haven’t been sleeping, son?” Dad asked, his brows scrunched with concern.
“I’m fine,” I replied, scrubbing a hand over my face, and letting out an exhausted sigh.
My dad made a noise in the back of his throat. “That’s why you look ready to drop.”
I yawned. My eyes stung with fatigue as they watered. “It’s my fault. Ruby and I were texting until three a.m.”
“Ah, so it begins.” Dad sat down at the table, carrying a steaming mug of coffee. “Late night texts—are they dirty?” His lips curved into a roguish smirk.
I jerked back with narrowed eyes. “No! Dirty? What sort of question is that?”
Dad looked a
