I open the curtains in our room just a smidge to let in a crack of gray morning light. Then I lie next to her and wait until she can feel me watching her. I could write a song about her face; the way her top lip is fuller than her bottom lip; the tiny, barely noticeable dip on the tip of her nose; the graceful arc of her eyebrows; the crystal-blue color of her eyes. She slowly opens her eyelids and smiles when she sees my face inches away from hers.
“Are you stalking me in my sleep again?” she says as her arms reach for me and she nuzzles her head against my neck.
I lightly stroke her arm as she squeezes me tightly. “How do you feel?”
“A little hungry.”
“Do you want to order room service or do you want to go out?”
“Call your mom and ask her what she wants to do.”
I tilt her chin up and stare at her face for a minute. “Are we going to tell her right now?”
