I wrap my arms around him, pulling him close before he can even get through the door.

“There you are,” I purr. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

“I can see that,” he says, running a hand down my bare back.

“Where have you been? What were you up to? How was your day?” I ask, punctuating each question with a kiss. I’m being playful but he pulls away.

“Out, stuff, and fine,” he replies.

“You should write novels,” I tease, reaching for him again, grabbing at the waistband of his jeans. I kiss up his chest and he finally bends down, meeting my mouth with his own. The rest of the world kind of swirls out of existence when we’re together like this. We stumble back towards the bed.

“Won’t you tell me one thing you did today?” I ask as he fumbles with the button of his jeans.

“Now?” he asks. I grin.

“I like knowing things about you. Please?” I toy with the hem of my boxers, indicating that they may come off with a satisfactory response. He huffs.

“I had family stuff,” he replies. He’s on top of me but now I’m distracted.

“Family stuff? Is your family in town?” His dark hair is falling around his face, casting shadows, but I still know he’s looking at me strangely.

“Yeah.”

“Do you… is it someone you’d want me to meet? You’ve already met my mom so--”

“Do we seriously have to talk about this now?”

“Do you not want your family to know about us? Are you… oh, are you not out to them? Because it's OK if--”

“Jesus, no.” He’s rolling his eyes at me like I’m ridiculous, but I can feel my heartbeat cantering out of control.

“So you just don’t want them to meet me? What, they won’t like me?”

“I can’t have this argument with you again. Let it go.”

“How am I supposed to let go of having a boyfriend that doesn’t want the most important people in his life to know about me?”

“What the… you know my friends. Why isn’t that enough?”

“Because family is important. It’s where you come from.”

“You really feel that way?” He stares at me, expressionless, even as the heat pools in my cheeks.

“Fuck off,” I say, crawling to the far corner of the bed. My pulse thrums behind my eyes, making the room fuzzy around the edges, swirling, a flash of green light…

***

I woke up with a pounding headache. At some point in the night I’d kicked off my blankets, but I was still clammy all over. I glanced at the time on my phone-- I’d slept late, but I sure didn’t feel well rested.

Padding out into the kitchen I discovered that Rose was hard at work frying some truly glorious looking bacon. She turned, smiling, as I came into view.

“I knew sizzling pork would get you up,” she teased. “This is almost ready… pop the toast down in the toaster for me, will you?”

I obeyed immediately, admiring the view as she cracked a couple eggs into another pan.

“If I feel like hell why does it smell like heaven?” I asked, grabbing a carton of orange juice out of the fridge and pouring us two glasses.

“What’s wrong?” she said, voice heavy with concern. I waved her off.

“Just being dramatic, I promise. Although I think I slept wrong, my shoulders are so tight.”

“Perhaps it’s stress-induced after your dramatic foiling of a robbery?” she said, flipping the eggs.

“Can you say you ‘foiled’ a robbery when the thief got away clean?” I asked. Rose shrugged and handed me a plate full of bacon, which I obediently brought it over to the dining table. Perfectly crispy; I’d be feeling good as new in no time.

“OK, so I’m guessing you didn’t make me breakfast just out of the goodness of your heart,” I said with an accusing smile. “What horrible thing are we doing today? It better not be calligraphy, because my writing hand is still in recovery.”

“I mean I was going to let you rest since you had such an ordeal last night, but since you’re so excited about planning, how about we spend the day figuring out the wedding favors?”

“One day I will learn to keep my mouth shut,” I said through a mouthful of egg. “But it was not this day.”

“It won’t be so bad,” Rose said. “It’s Googling and then online shopping. You could do it in your sleep.”

“I think I’ve seen you online shop in your sleep before,” I said.

“I’m very talented,” Rose said with a grin. When we finished eating we rose, collecting the dishes and loading up the dishwasher.

“Allow me,” I said, grabbing a sponge out of Rose’s hand and starting to scrub the frying pans. As the hot, soapy water sloshed around in the sink, the doorbell rang.

“That must be Allen,” Rose said. “He said he’d stop by this morning.”

“Is he gonna help with wedding stuff?” I asked, a little incredulously.

“He helps. Sometimes,” Rose said, disappearing towards the front door. I kept scrubbing at the pan, trying to get all the grease off and managing to splash myself with water repeatedly in the process.

“I’m buying you dishwasher-only pans for your wedding gift,” I yelled as I heard footsteps near. “I know Allen will be on my side on this.”

“Probably, but we’ll have to ask him later. Harp, it’s for you.”

I turned from my sudsy battleground to see Rose standing in our kitchen with none other than Reid Decker.