And yet, he’s still fast asleep.
I walk back to the couch and sit beside him. Turning my body toward his, I bend my knees up, feet on the couch, and lean in toward his face. “Danny, wake up.”
He rustles, hands feeling for me with his eyes closed. Finding my legs, he grouchily yanks them back onto his lap.
“Gracie baby, why’re you up so early? Go back to bed,” he slurs sleepily.
My heart simultaneously swells and shatters when I hear “Gracie baby” for the first time in over a decade. I inhale sharply. “Dan. You need to wake up.”
Eyes still half closed, he frowns. “Stop calling me Dan all the time. It hurts my feelings, baby,” he grumbles in his dream state.
Blowing out a frustrated breath, I close the remaining gap between us. “Danny, hello, please awaken before I die of starvation,” I announce directly into his ear canal.
His back straightens as his eyes dart all around before landing on my face. It takes him only a moment to deduce he has glued my thighs to his hard-on, and he immediately drops my legs and pulls the discarded blanket over himself. “Sorry, I, uh, sometimes have a tough time waking up in the morning.”
“Yes, the eight alarms you set every morning freshman year of college were a dead giveaway.”
He laughs awkwardly as he rubs the back of his neck. “What’re you talking about? I thought youlikedhearing ‘Viva LaVida’ every fifteen minutes between the hours of five a.m. and seven a.m., Monday through Friday. I did it for you.”
I giggle. “You’ve ruined it so much for me that I can’t even listen to that song anymore. And some days, I find myself thinking, ‘How am I supposed to viva la vida without ‘Viva La Vida,’ you know?”
Danny’s shoulders shake with silent laughter. He looks brighter and more awake now. “We should probably get ready. Mom’ll be here any minute.”
I launch myself off the couch with a huge smile on my face. “That’s right! I forgot Janie is coming over. I can’t wait to see her. I need to find something to wear.”
Danny stretches his long arms above his head, showing off just a sliver of his bare torso, where my eyes linger. My gaze follows the trail of dark hair to the top of his sweatpants, remembering what his lower V used to feel like under my hands. He looks…so hot. It’s honestly not right. His eyelashes are longer than mine, and his lips are fuller in a way that’s an insult to women everywhere. Danny grins when he catches me obviously gawking, but graciously doesn’t call me out on it. Instead, he lifts his arms even higher above his head, giving me a whole show on purpose.
“You always look great, Gracie. No need to impress Mom. She loves you just as you are, and frankly?” He looks at me, assessing something. “She’s seen you in worse condition.”
“Excuseyou?” I glare at him.
“Don’t look so surprised. Remember the white eyeliner phase you went through?” He raises an eyebrow at me and bites his lower lip to keep from laughing.
“Howdareyou, Danny. Everyone knows white eyeliner makes your eyes pop. It’s an extremely flattering choice. Teen Girl Magazine said so.”
“Did Teen Girl Magazine also tell you to cover yourself head to toe in hemp jewelry with little shells on it? Because that was another…choice.”
I tilt my chin up and sniff. “For your information, the puka shells gave me a beachy allure.”
“We lived in a landlocked state. You’d never seen the ocean.”
“Whatever,” I huff. “I could go on and on about your ‘choices,’ but you don’t hear me talking about your three month skater boi phase.”
“The business professional tie with the ripped t-shirt underneath was pure class and you know that, Gracie,” he says, wagging his finger at me like I’m in trouble.
“Enough of this. I’m getting changed into something cuter for Janie. End of story,” I announce with determination. “Does she always come over the morning after a big game for brunch?”
“Only if we lose. If we lose, she comes over and makes her cinnamon rolls.”
“Ah, so these are sympathy cinnamon rolls.”
“Typically, yes. But today, they’re happy cinnamon rolls. Because you’re here.”
Chapter 27
Danny
Gracie is upstairs changing when the doorbell rings. I nearly jog to the door, praying I get a few moments alone with my mother before Gracie comes down the stairs. I throw open the door and see Mom standing with a kitchen mixer in her arms.
