The phone rings. Go away. Jory doesn’t want to answer it. He doesn’t want to talk to anyone right now, no one but Peter, and where is his man anyway? He knows Jory doesn’t like waking up alone. Maybe he’s downstairs, making breakfast. Maybe he’ll answer the phone.
By the fifth ring, Jory thinks maybe Peter’s waiting for him to answer it, so he reaches over and snags the receiver off the hook. Pressing it to his ear, he mumbles, “Hello?”
“Did I wake you up?” Bruce asks.
Jory laughs as he stretches into a sitting position on the bed. “What time is it?”
“A little before noon.” Jory hears the worry in his friend’s voice. “Jory, were you sleeping? This late?”
“Yeah.” Jory puts Peter’s pillow back in its place, fluffing it up before laying back on it. It still smells of Peter’s cologne, a s
