“His SUV is parked in front of your building.”
Shaking his head, Garrett clears his throat. “Morning, Anker.”
“Morning, Garrett…” he pauses for a beat, “…Can I come in or?—”
“Ah…give us a minute,” I yell, yanking on a pair of sweatpants.
“Just as I thought,” Anker says.
I shimmy my hoodie on and brush my hair out of my face.
“Glasses,” Garrett says, handing me my glasses.
“Thanks.” I put them on.
“Ready?”
I suck in a breath and nod. “Ready.”
Garrett strides to the door, me in tow, and opens it.
Anker leans on the door jamb—no doubt a smirk playing in his features. “So, this is finally happening.”
“Finally?” I arch an eyebrow.
“Don’t play coy. Why do you think I teased you about having hate sex with Garrett?” Straightening, he juts his chin toward Garrett. “Not to mention, you couldn’t see how Mopey over there looked at you, but I could.”
“That’s one.” I hold up a finger. “Also, I never hated Garrett,” I protest with a small pout.
“I’m aware.” Anker laughs, pushing past us and moving to the small kitchen island to deposit the drinks carrier and bag of bagels. “So, how long?”
“Last night,” Garrett says, closing the door.
“I knew something was up after the race.” He walks over and hands me a to-go cup. “Red Velvet Cupcake latte.”
I shouldn’t be that shocked. Anker isn’t aloof. He may play the loveable cad, but he’s tapped into people. It’s what makes him a good doctor.
“Garrett, there’s an Americano on the counter for you.”
Garrett tilts his head. “How’d you know to bring me a coffee?”
“I drove by earlier this morning on my way to yoga in the park and saw your SUV. Jensen may be taking her training seriously, but not seven a.m. serious—especially on a Sunday.I figured if I was going to surprise my sister with breakfast, I should bring something for her guest.” He pats Garrett’s shoulder. “I’m assuming you were here all night.”
“Yeah.”
“No wonder you didn’t want me to come over,” he says over his shoulder, looking at me.
“Garrett wasn’t here then,” I say.
“But he’s here now?” Turning toward Garrett, he steps back.
“I am,” Garrett says, looking between me and Anker. “To be clear, this isn’t just a one-time thing. I care about Jensen and?—”
“We’re dating,” I cut in. “Or rather, we’re going to. Our first date is on Friday, so we won’t be at happy hour.” I gesture wildly with my free hand. “Whatever we are, we’re… uh…”
“Together,” Garrett says, his tone emphatic.
“Good thing I brought breakfast, then.”
