Shortcake
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He set his phone aside, rolled over, and finally let himself drift off to sleep.
Back in Colorado, Gemma sat looking at her phone. She saw Tony’s like and, on impulse, texted him: Good night, Tony. She didn’t wait for an answer—just rolled over, pulled the sweatshirt tighter around her, and let herself slip into sleep.
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Freddy was up at 6 a.m., already lacing up her running shoes and stretching by the door.
Gemma sat up slowly, squinting at her roommate. Freddy didn’t look like she’d had more than one drink the night before, while Gemma’s head felt like it was about to explod
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