Saying nothing, Henry led me into the main area of the condo. It was a studio like mine, but he had a real bed with a frame and everything across the far wall under the big window.

A leather love seat sat across from a TV on a chest of drawers, and a little round table and chairs were squeezed in by the kitchen. It was all so grown-up.

He turned from the drawers, holding out a plaid bundle. I stared in confusion.

“There’s vomit on your pants,” he said.

“Oh! Fuck. Sorry. Did I get any on your car seat?”

He was still holding out the bundle. Pajamas? I took the soft material, and he disappeared into the bathroom. I guess he wanted me to change into these? It was so hard to think.

I stripped off my practice pants—yep, splashes of puke on one leg—but Henry was already back holding a bottle of Advil and staring at me with wide eyes.

Maybe I wasn’t supposed to get changed? But I couldn’t just stand there in my boxer briefs, so I kept going while he turned sharply toward the kitchen.

The green plaid PJs were super soft flannel with a matching shirt and bottoms because of course Henry wore full sets of pajamas and not a T-shirt and boxers or whatever.

He returned with a glass of water, and I fumbled with the buttons on the PJ top, which was tight over my chest. For a second, I thought he’d offer to help, and excitement flared through the stony pain. Then he motioned me to the bathroom and gave me the water and Advil.

He’d also left out a new toothbrush on the counter still in its packaging. Probably a freebie from the dentist. A half-used tube of toothpaste sat beside it, the end efficiently rolled. Was he secretly my nana in disguise? If Henry had a purse, he’d carry mints.

When I went back out, I stumbled. Henry knelt on his bed, pulling the gray curtains shut and reaching out with his ass on display.

Definitely not my nana. Nope.

Standing beside the double bed, he wordlessly pulled back the duvet, which was a silvery blue that reminded me a bit of his free skate costume. I gratefully slid between the sheets, my whole body aching and exhausted, feeling like the cement had encased all of me.

“This isn’t how I imagined the first time in your bed.”

Oh, Jesus, wait. Had I said that out loud? What was I even talking about? I pried my eyes open, but it was too dark to see if Henry was blushing. I was afraid if I tried to explain the joke that I’d make it worse, so I quit while I was ahead and shut my mouth.

I’d just take a little nap, and then we could get my keys from the concierge, and Henry could have his Saturday back…

I wasn’t sure how long it had been before I blearily blinked. The condo was still dark, a faint red glow coming from the kitchen. Henry sat on the far end of the love seat with his legs curled under, socked feet peeking out.