“I made chamomile, so you aren’t still awake in three hours,” I say. “I hope that’s okay.” “Sounds good to me,” he says. He takes the mug and sighs contently as his fingers wrap around the warm porcelain. “Thank you. This might be the highlight of my day.” “My tea isn’t that good, so I guess your day was that bad?” I ask, and I take a sip of my drink. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” “No, I—” Shawn stops talking. He sits up and looks around. “What’s that noise?” “Oh.” I set down my mug and grab a blanket to fold. “I put on some classical music before you came over. You
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