28
I jolted awake at a sigh of breath on my cheek.
“Hey, sleeping beauty.” Mike’s soft lips on my temple calmed my racing heart. “Sorry, but Roger’s on the phone. And he’s being cagey.”
It took a moment to get my bearings. Daylight, barely. Distressed pine nightstand with a dark metal lamp and not much else. Southwestern-style comforter draped over me. Photo collage on the nearest white wall featuring people I wouldn’t know even if my bleary eyes could see. Except one person.
Mike’s bedroom. Mike stood over me; the warm presence on the other side of the bed was Addy. I sucked air through my nose, trying to stifle a yawn as I rolled out of bed and headed toward the living room.
“Nice pants,” said the man wearing khakis.
I wasn’t wearing pants, just yesterday’s underwear and a Red Sox
