Chapter 3: Our Dirty Little Secret
I woke up the next morning on the couch, Dawn leaned on me, still sleeping. I read the clock on the cable box. 7:00
I got up, making a point not to stir Dawn and got ready for work. On my way out, as I grabbed my keys I made a quick soup. Nothing special just tortellini and chicken stock. But I put it in the fridge with a note reading:
I figure you're still sick and need rest. You coughed all the while I got ready! I made some soup. It's in the fridge. Don't heat longer for 2 minutes on high. It'll probably make a mess of the microwave.
"Ahh-choo!", I sneezed, luckily far away from the latte I had been brewing.
"Bless you. You alright?", Kat asked from the register.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"You sound sick. Hey, isn't Dawn sick too?"
The memory of my impulsive kiss with Dawn last night came to me as Kat mentioned Dawn's illness.
"Uh, yeah.", I replied awkwardly.
"Weren't you supposed to talk to Dawn yesterday?"