He’s impossible to miss, shirtless and leaning over the railing of the balcony with a steaming mug in his hand, but I know I’d find him even in a crowd of people. “Been waiting for you,” he says. He looks at me over his shoulder, and his mouth curves into a double-dimpled smile. There’s a crease on his cheek from his pillow, and his hair is sticking up in six different directions. “Come here.”
