“Dom’s lips tightened, and I continued chuckling as I wandered over to the swinging bench and pulled my latest paperback from my bag. The yellowed pages were a soothing soft brush against my fingers and the spine let out a comforting creak that melded with the squeak of the sturdy chains holding the padded bench suspended from the porch ceiling. It was one of those large swinging benches, almost the size of the mattress in my dorm room, and covered in throw pillows.”