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Ash smiled but then pursed his lips. Why was the prospect of hanging up making his chest tight? “If only you could call me every night,” he joked, “maybe my laundry would get done, too.”

Cass laughed again. “And the sweeping.”

“And dusting.”

“And vacuuming and—”

“No, no, no, oh, dear god, no vacuuming,” Ash cut in, though he was grinning as he shook his head and settled onto one of the stools at the island. “Bri’s asleep. Let’s keep it that way for at least the next four or five hours so I can sleep too.”

“Right,” Cass said. There was some rustling on the other end of the line, and then Cass yawned again. “Then I’ll have to also call when she’s already awake, so you can have company while you vacuum.”

“I guess so,” Ash agreed, laughing again. He closed his eyes and tried very hard to ignore whatever was happening in his chest now—some mixture of that anticipatory warmth he’d felt earlier and an eagerness he couldn’t quite understand. “All jokes aside,” he said, “thank you. It made the work I’ve been putting off for much too long go a lot faster. It’s been a struggle lately to get things done that don’t absolutely have to get done.”

“Like dishes?”

“Yeah.” He let out a breath, wanting to go on, to tell Cass how hard it was every day, struggling to get even the important things done. To keep going. To remember to eat. But it was late. Really, really late. And Cass had already been more than wonderful and helped him so much. “We should both get to sleep, huh?”

With another yawn, Cass mumbled a sleepy, “Hmm, what?”

They both laughed, and Ash smiled, holding back a yawn himself. “Good luck with whatever you’ve got going on in the morning,” he said, pushing himself to stand and starting toward the bedroom.

“Oh, yeah, uh . . .” Cass cleared his throat, and there was some more rustling. “Thanks, yeah. My dad’s taking my mom to her appointment, like I said, but I’ve got a, uh, thing.”

The evasiveness in Cass’s tone made Ash pause, and he turned back toward the kitchen and lowered his voice, not wanting to wake Bri. “A thing, huh? Sounds super important.”

Cass let out a light laugh, but something about it felt strained. “Ah, well, um, my boyfriend asked me to meet him for breakfast before he goes to work since I’m free now,” he said.

“Oh.” Ash squeezed his eyes shut as two very, very contradictory emotions seemed to battle in his chest. He wasn’t even sure what either of them meant. But since he in no way wanted his awkward, single-word response or the even more awkward silence after it to be misinterpreted, he coughed to clear his throat and then said, “Well, I hope he’s taking you to that place you said has the world’s best breakfast burritos.”

He heard a snort and then a muffled laugh.

“Unfortunately, no,” Cass said, his tone clearly much more relaxed. “Joe’s not really a breakfast burrito guy, actually. But the place we’re going to has amazing omelets and even better French toast. And the coffee is acceptable.”

Ash grinned. “Only acceptable, huh?”

“Well, seeing as you’re from Seattle, I feel like I’m not allowed to say the coffee is incredible, because you’ll just tell me yours is better.”

“I will tell you that because it’s true. Mine is better.”

Cass laughed. “See?”

Ash leaned up against the wall and closed his eyes again. He knew he needed to say good night and hang up. Make whatever was going on in his chest calm down so he could get some sleep. But he couldn’t bring himself to say the words, for whatever reason.

Thankfully, Cass managed to say it for both of them.

“I should probably go. We both need to sleep.” He yawned, as though to prove his point. “It was great talking with you, Ash.”

“You, too. And thank you again.”

“Let me know when you need the push to vacuum. Or do your laundry.”

Ash smiled, and he ducked his chin as the flicker of warmth he’d been feeling for their whole conversation seemed to burn a little brighter. “I will. Enjoy your acceptable coffee tomorrow.”

Cass huffed another quiet laugh. “I will. Good night, Ash.”

“Good night, Cass.”

Ash hung up the phone and stuck it in his pocket. Then he lingered there in the hallway for a moment, still leaning against the wall as he tried to let the feelings in his chest settle. He couldn’t really name them, although one felt suspiciously like disappointment, and he didn’t understand that at all.