“Aren’t you supposed to be helping your mom?” I asked.

“Shh.” She pressed a finger against my lips. “Please don’t talk me out of this.”

She grabbed her phone, and as she typed out a message to her mom, I took my time kissing my way across her shoulder blades.

“Done,” she said, twisting around to wrap her arms around my neck, shifting to straddle me. “I told my mom I had a migraine. I didn’t tell her that my migraine was gorgeous, and naked in my bed.”

She pulled me toward her, kissing me deeply, and every thought in my mind evaporated into dust.

Later, we made pancakes from scratch together as NPR blared from Franny’s phone, and topped them with some of the raspberries we’d lugged home in the rain yesterday. We spread out over her tiny table, passing pages from the Sunday New York Times across to each other as we ate in silence. It was achingly intimate, and resonated with me just as deeply as sliding next to her naked in bed did. Sex was one thing, but comfort, finding contentment in the quiet, that was something else altogether. Our actions were as unhurried as our day: We read, we sipped, we took leisurely bites. The silence was interrupted when Franny kicked me with her foot and asked, “Am I going to have to fight you for the crossword?”

I sighed dramatically, handing the Magazine over begrudgingly.

“Okay, fine, I’ll share.” She planted a kiss on my forehead as she stood and grabbed two pencils from a cup on the little shelf by the window.

She tried to hand me one, and I waved her off. “Do you really think I do the crossword in pencil, Franny? It’s pen or nothing.”

“Wow, that’s the hottest thing anyone’s ever said to me.” She leaned forward and kissed me before heading back to grab a pen. Then we splayed out on the couch and spent the next thirty minutes scribbling and debating.

“Well, that was way faster than when I do it on my own,” Franny said, looking at our completed work.

“I’m proud of us.” I leaned forward for a high five. “Who knew we’d make such a good team. I’ll be honest, sometimes I skip Sundays, because it’s too hard for me.”

“Wow, Hayes has a weakness! And here I thought you were chiseled, nerdy perfection.”

I rolled my eyes, but her opinion thrilled me. Even if it was tongue-in-cheek, there was something in her voice that told me she also thought it was true. Just a little.

“I’m glad I stayed here with you,” she said, draping her legs over mine. “It’s been a while since I did something I wanted to do, just for me.”

“I am too.” I cupped her face in my hand, kissing her softly. I pulled back slowly. “Was your mom mad?”