“Uh-huh. Now, don’t worry. I didn’t take an unusual amount of time doing it. I’m not a freak.”

I smiled.

“It’s just that I thought it was a fluke. The first time you slept with me, it was like you were comatose.”

I rolled my eyes. “Nice.”

He chuckled, moving the clothes on the floor with his feet, trying to find his sweatpants. He gave up and grabbed the coffee and the bag and came over to bed in nothing but his gray boxer briefs.

“But apparently that’s really how you sleep,” he said, amazed. “It’s so relaxing to watch.” He handed me the bag.

I proceeded to open it and was surprised by him leaning in to kiss me hello. Just a quick kiss, but he did it in a way that felt like an old habit, a reflex.

“So, I got blueberry, Asiago, chocolate, plain, and cinnamon raisin,” he said, checking off the flavors on his fingers. “I didn’t know your stance on raisins, and I started getting nervous ’cause I didn’t know what kind of bagel you’d like, so I just—”

“—ordered one of everything they had?”

“Pretty much.” He crossed his legs and straightened the patch of duvet separating us.

“I actually like raisins,” I told him.

That got me another smile, and it seemed like the wrong time to tell him I didn’t really do breakfast, so I’d gladly eat the whole bag, if necessary.

“Now, for the real important part—the coffee I almost certainly got wrong.”

“Is it iced?” I asked.

He immediately went from looking excited to looking utterly defeated. “No.”

“Then you did good. Anything but iced coffee is fine.”

“Yeah?”

“Iced coffee is tea. If I want tea, I’ll have some tea.”

“How about a cappuccino with very little foam?” he said, handing me the cup.

“Perfect.” I smiled.

“I thought I’d better go with a classic.”

He looked so relieved. “Go on,” he said, taking a sip of his salted caramel mocha that I was later going to find out he drank about four a day of. “Which do you want first?”

“Um, I think I’ll go with the Asiago. Want half?” I split it in two.

He nodded and reached out to take the smaller half.

“So,” I said, “what’s the plan?”

“For today?”

“Yep.”

“Well, if we want to go to school, we need—”

“I don’t have to go to school today,” I said, mid-bite.

“Yeah?” He beamed. “’Cause I was gonna ask if you wanted to, I dunno, maybe hang out here.”

“Fine by me.”

“It’s raining anyway, so going out is just so—”

“Impractical.”

“And wet,” he added.

“Absolutely. If I want to get wet, I can just stay here.”

It was one of those moments when I regretted saying something while I actually said it.

He almost choked on his bagel. “What?” he asked, laughing.