“What else did you plan? What exactly are we doing this weekend, along with boning on that huge bed.” He gestures vaguely to the California king. I meet his eyes. “Tonight we’re having steaks at the hotel restaurant. Tomorrow afternoon we’re going to a craft beer festival in Mystic.” He nods slowly. “Okay. And?” He knows me well. “Uh, Sam Smith is playing at Mohegan Sun. I got us tickets,” I mumble.
