The sun is pouring through the gap in the curtains, which makes going back to sleep nearly impossible. Rolling over, I realize the bed next to me is empty. I vaguely remember Noah getting up a few hours ago, but I wasn’t awake enough for it to register. Pushing back the covers, I lower my feet to the cold wooden floor. I stand up, wrapping my arms around me to try to keep in some warmth. I wander out of the bedroom and spot Noah in the kitchen surrounded by pots and pans. The smell of coffee hits me and my mouth begins to salivate. “Hey, sleepy,” he says, with a smile that makes my heart race. “We don’t have a lot of options, so I hope you like waffles with frozen berries and maple syrup.” “So long as there’s coffee to go along with that, it sounds perfect.” I smile, sliding into one of the chairs that surround the small wooden dining table. “What time is it?” I wonder aloud. He nods to the clock above my head.
