CHAPTER 62

I shuffled out of bed quietly and opened one of my drawers. I pulled out his T-shirt, one I kept when I left, and pulled it over my head. I didn’t know how he missed it when he put all my clothes in the drawers. Maybe he didn’t miss it—maybe he noticed it and decided to just ignore it.

Tying my hair up, I walked downstairs and into the kitchen. The kettle was empty, so I filled it and set it to boil, then threw four slices of bread into the toaster. My laptop was on the counter and I opened it, bringing up Spotify. I set the radio playing and hummed along to the song—Dirty J.’s latest. My lips curved.

Damn. They were everywhere.

I twirled across the kitchen, still humming, and grabbed the butter and milk from the fridge. I buttered the toast when it popped and stir two coffees.

“I wondered what was dying down here.” Conor’s hands settled on either side of my body on the counter, and he dipped his face into the side of my neck.

“Ha, ha.” I knocked his elbow with mine. “Good morning to