Gar sat at the kitchen bar over a bowl of cereal as he scrolled on his phone. He glanced up and stopped mid-chew when Ainsley dragged herself into the kitchen. His best friend’s hair was in a haphazard, sloppy ponytail, and she was still wearing an oversized Metallica tee shirt, sleep pants, and mismatched vibrant socks. He snickered to himself and hopped out of his chair, and wrapped his arms around her from behind. As much as Ainsley hated mornings, the benefit was that she was much more agreeable to his clinginess.

“Rough mornin’, mama?” he asked teasingly. “I must say, you’re looking beautifully disheveled.”