He woke the next morning to warm sunlight on his face and the rich smell of freshly brewed coffee. He cracked one eye open, only to shut it again. Even with curtains covering them, the large windows let in enough light to effectively blind him. He blinked rapidly until his eyes adjusted. The room seemed different in daylight: cheerful and serene. It looked like a commercial for laundry detergent. The windows must be open, because the curtains were fluttering, and he could smell fresh-cut grass.

Zack rolled onto his other side. John was gone, leaving only an indentation in the pillows to prove he’d ever been there. He was probably off brewing the coffee Zack could smell. Zack stretched, reveling in the way his muscles burned. God, what a night.

As if cued by Zack’s thoughts, a blond head poked through the door.

“Morning,” John said, flashing a bright smile. “I was hoping you’d wake up soon.” He opened the door and strode into the room. He was wearing jeans and a gray, long-sleeved shirt. His hair was a little damp and had been styled into an artful mess. He was also holding a steaming cup of coffee that smelled almost as good as he looked. When he reached the bed, he kneeled on it and handed the coffee to Zack.

Zack took it with a smile. “Morning.”

John leaned over and kissed him, just a gentle brush of lips, but by the time he pulled away, Zack felt dizzy. He took a sip of coffee to steady himself.

“How’d you know I take it with milk and sugar?” he asked.

John shrugged. “Lucky guess. I was tempted to put some whiskey in it for good measure.”

Zack laughed. “I wouldn’t have turned that down.”

He surveyed the room until he spotted a digital alarm clock. It read 9:43 a.m.—much later than he usually slept.

“I hope you weren’t waiting for me to wake up. I’m normally an early riser.”

“Well, you were a bit worn out.” A sly smile flashed across John’s face.

Zack felt a stirring in his lower belly. “Yeah, that must be it.”

John took the mug from him and set it on the nightstand. Then he leaned forward and kissed him again. Zack deepened it, lifting a hand to cup John’s cheek. John scooted closer and trailed his fingers down Zack’s bare torso. Zack half expected him to keep going south. Instead, John rested his hand on Zack’s thigh and stroked it idly through the sheet.