Chapter 18

I was sitting on the tiny back deck drinking coffee and trying to figure out if there was any wildlife outside or if his minuscule backyard was just somewhere plants came to die. Mitch walked out with a mug in one hand and the carafe in the other.

“Hey, you’re up early,” he said with a yawn.

“Yup.”

We sat in silence, looking out over the postage stamp-sized yard. Mitch had on sleep pants, and his bed hair and unshaven face made him look adorable, a word I’d never say out loud to him in a million years.

After all the time we’d spent together, I was getting used to my mind coming up with weird words and feelings whenever I was around him. My het-o-meter had been steadily pointing closer to the gay zone, which at first worried me but now made me wonder how straight straight people were, not to mention how gay gay men were.