“Wait!”
He stops, gives a little half turn.
“Where do you live?”
“Belltown. Old building at Western and Cedar, down toward Eliot Bay. You can’t miss it. Big flight of stone stairs outside.”
I nod and smile.
But he just continues on his way. He doesn’t look back, which doesn’t mean a thing—because I have hope.
***
JOSH
It was one of those nights when sleep taunted me, refusing to come but leaving me too exhausted to consider anything other than tossing and turning in my full-size bed, a four-poster in which my grandma and grandpa once slept.
It was a shame, too, because the weather had shifted and it was one of those nights people referred to as “perfect sleeping weather.” Shortly after supper clouds rolled in over the Sound, and with them came cooling breezes. The temperature must
