Nancy Drew sat on the tile and turned her head back and forth to follow his movements.
The coffee maker burbled and hissed as it finished brewing.
Andy heard a rustle of fabric from the direction of the bedroom. He froze.
“Andy?” Erin’s sleep-roughened voice drifted into the kitchen.
He hustled to the bedroom door but didn’t open it. “Erin?” he said softly.
She opened the door, still in her pajamas, and rubbed her eyes before focusing her gaze on his face. “Are you really here?” She took a step back and poked her index finger forcefully into the palm of her other hand.
He watched this odd gesture with fascination. “What are you doing?”
“I’m making sure I’m awake.”
Andy chuckled. “You’re definitely awake. I promise.”
“Prove it,” she said.
“Follow me,” he said. He returned to the kitchen and poured a mug of coffee, adding a bit of cream and two spoonfuls of sugar.
Erin watched him.
He held out the coffee. When Erin wrapped her hands around the warm mug, Andy placed his hands over hers. “Does this seem real to you?”
Erin met his gaze. “Very real.”
He released her. “Well, then. Drink up.”
She took a slow sip. “It’s good.”
“It should be. I made it,” he said.
“And so modest, too.” The corner of her mouth lifted in a playful smile. “I see you managed not to break anything this time.”
He couldn’t stop looking at her little smile, and the way it made her eyes crinkle at the corners, so he filled another mug with coffee to give himself a reason to look away. “There’s always tomorrow.”
22
Andy sat in the passenger seat of the car and crossed his arms.
This seemed like a very bad idea.
“Come on, it’ll be fine,” said Erin. She placed a hand on his arm. “It was really hard to shop while talking to someone who wasn’t there.”
“I was there,” said Andy, splitting hairs in order to stall what appeared to be the inevitable conclusion of Erin getting her way.
“Okay, fine.” Erin used the hand on his arm to give him a little push. “You were there, but you were invisible. It was awkward.”
Andy caved, like he knew he would. “Do I look okay?”
She looked him up and down. “Of course. You always look good. I’m envious,” she teased.
“Envious? Of me? That’s one of the seven deadly sins. Keep up the good work.” He hopped out of the car.
She joined him. “You’re supposed to compliment me back, you know. That’s how this works.”
“Oh, am I? I’m a little rusty. Hang on. Let me think.” He faced her and struck a pensive pose. “I think you look beautiful when you get out of bed in the morning with mussed hair and wrinkled pajamas. How’s that?”
