Brooklyn was up bright and early the next morning. Her hands were still a little tender but that salve Drake had put on them had helped even though it smelled something awful. Her back and legs were sore from squatting on the roof but it had been worth it when she looked up at the ceiling and didn’t see any sunlight spots.
She’d done that. Well, it was team effort but still. And she found she really enjoyed it. Even if it was hot and sweaty work. Brooklyn was shocked Drake hadn’t died of a heat stroke but maybe with time the long sleeves would come off. It wasn’t that she wanted to see what he hid under those baggy shirts. It was for his safety.
She’d tiptoes out of the bedroom thinking Drake was still abed and didn’t want to disturb him but the couch was empty and a blanket and pillow
