Drew nodded. "I'll be right back."
He looked up at last, his brow furrowed. "Promise me you're not going to take off while I'm getting dressed? I wouldn't blame you."
"I'll be here," I said, and it felt right—but also like signing a high-interest loan or something. In blood.
"Okay." He sounded dubious, but he left the garage, and a moment later I heard his footsteps pounding up the stairs.
I took a second to close my eyes and take a deep, deep breath, letting it out slowly. It didn't help much.
A drink sounded good. Maybe I couldn't taste it, but I needed something. On the other hand, one of us had to have our wits about us.
I headed for the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee.
Caffeine or alcohol. Or a hammer to the head and a fistful of Valium, but I didn't have that available.
Drew came back down before I'd even finished turning on the machine, in gym shorts and an inside-out black T-shirt.
He'd been in a hurry, then, and I tried and failed not to be a little touched.
