Eddie woke Sunday morning to find that Jules had kept his promise and stayed. He was sleeping soundly, so Eddie eased out of bed, went into the bathroom to piss, and do everything else it took to make himself presentable. Then he put on a pair of briefs and old jeans before going into the kitchen to see what he could come up with for breakfast—which turned out to be scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast, as well as coffee. Since Jules was still asleep, Eddie only made enough for himself, ate, and then got his book and settled in the wingchair, his feet on the bed, to read.
Looking up occasionally, he felt a sense of peace at the idea he had a nice place to call his own and a man in his bed who, despite common sense, he cared about. It was all an illusion that wouldn’t last—he knew that. Jules
