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Della’s lips puff open, and I realize my girlfriend has fallen fast asleep.

Girlfriend.

The word appears so naturally in my head, as I look down at her and resist the urge to move the lock of hair from her face in case I wake her. Technically, she hasn’t agreed to the use of that term, but I know she likes the idea of the two of us together. And maybe I can persuade her by being a good boyfriend.

As silently as possible, I grab a tissue from the box on the nightstand and wipe the excess oil from my hands. The sheets are cool as I lift them and lower them over her back, holding my breath in case they wake her. But they don’t.

Della has passed out hard.

I blow out the candle and head downstairs, just as I hear footsteps and a shuffle outside. With a few quick steps, I get to the door and open it, just as the pizza delivery guy has his hand raised to press the doorbell.

“Thanks,” I say, pulling a ten-dollar tip from my wallet.

“No worries,” he says, cheerfully.

I move into the kitchen and fire off a message to Ridge.

Me: Can you swing by and feed Mango?

Ridge: You have the shittiest timing.

He attaches a photo of Steffi, taken from below; she’s obviously riding him.

Me: Why the fuck you answering your phone while fucking?

Ridge: Wanna know a secret? It’s kinda boring.

I think about what happened upstairs. My thoughts about what I was doing being more special than sex.

Ridge: Gimme ten and I’ll head over there. Where are you?

Me: Della’s

Ridge: Attaboy!!!!

Me: Fuck you

Ridge: Focus on fucking her, not me. Later!

I shake my head.

Me: Mango appreciates your sacrifice

Ridge: Mango doesn’t appreciate anything other than a can of wet food twice a day.

I figure out the laundry when it beeps loudly to signify it’s done washing. Then, I decide I should stay up until it’s finished drying in case it, too, also beeps as if it wants to raise the dead. I kill time eating pizza and watching a young Michael Douglas and Kathleen Turner movie, and they remind me a bit of me and Indy.

When all the jobs are finally done, I slip upstairs as quietly as I can. I strip my clothes in the hallway, so I don’t wake Della. Carefully, I navigate turning the lights off and fall in bed next to her. I blow out a breath of exertion as I sink into the soft sheets. They’re softer than any bedding that’s ever touched my body.

As if sensing me there, Della rolls over and snuggles up in my arms beneath my chin. She’s a soft and welcome armful, her skin is so smooth and warm.

And within minutes, I’m fast asleep.

24

DELLA

Iwake slowly from the most restful, dreamless sleep I’ve ever had. My heart isn’t racing. Thoughts don’t come careening in at the speed of light. But instead of waking in Sunny’s arms, I find myself in the warm, empty hollow where Sunny slept. But just when I wonder if he left without saying goodbye, I smell the rich scent of my exceptional coffee.