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eyelashes flutter and I know she’s
     dreaming.
    The best dream she ever had, in my opinion, was when she discovered her underlying
     feelings for me. The one that changed the course of both our lives forever. It’s pretty morbid to say that the accident was the best day of my life, but if
     it didn’t unfold exactly the way it did, I wouldn’t be here beside the only girl I
     ever pictured being with forever.
    Every night since she woke up, I hope it’s me she’s dreaming of. I don’t need to
     go back to sleep to have any kind of dreams, she’s sleeping right next to me. Exactly where she belongs.

CHAPTER FIVE
    Mira
    Tossing and turning, the smell of coffee wafts through the apartment, luring me from
     my slumber. When I crack my eyes open, the sun pours through the window, already
     high in the sky. Of course he’s going to pull out all the stops to keep the fighting
     at a minimum. The man knows me too well. Playing me like a fiddle, he uses every
     trick in the book to start my day off right and avoid the drama from last night.
    Step one—let me sleep in. Step two—caffeine.
    “Afternoon,” he says as I walk out of the bedroom.
    “Hey.” Pulling the hair tie from my wrist, I quickly knot all of my hair on top of
     my head. He hates this look, but it’s an easy way to keep my locks away from my coffee
     until I can force myself to look appropriate enough to associate with the human race.
     There are a few things I know for sure … nobody wants to get a stray hair in their
     latte and combing said hair should take place only after one is fully caffeinated.
    Sitting at the dining room table slash desk, Sky pushes my work to the side and slides
     a mug in my direction. Pouring in a little cream and way too much sugar, I place
     my nose to the rim, inhaling the intoxicating aroma.
    “Thanks,” I mutter, testing the temperature of the insta-happy elixir inside the cup.
     I should remain stoic and unaffected, but the perfect mixture of warmth and sweetness
     calls my name. More like a beacon of light shining into my soul, guiding me safely
     to shore. Yep. I might take my morning … afternoon … cup of Joe a little too seriously.
    “Are you working today?” he asks while I decide if a second cup, spiked of course,
     is needed to deal with more of this drama today.
    “For a bit. Why?”
    “I have some things to do. Wanna get dinner later?” Two creams, three sugars and a shot of whiskey when you prepare my next cup, sir.
    I would like to introduce you to the art of topic changing. He’s not getting off
     that easy, and it’s the perfect time to go in for the kill.
    “Speaking of dinner, I talked to Danny yesterday, too. He said something about us
     getting together this week.”
    “Together us— like you, me, him and Melissa. Or together us … like just you and him?” Skylar asks, raising a brow and fixing his gaze on me.
    Really? Here I am thinking mentioning Danny will jar his memory. You know, like he’ll suddenly
     remember to tell me about closing the shop. Instead I get this? It’s official … passive aggressive doesn’t work with men. At least not mine, anyway.
    “Us, like all of us. He said any time after the first is good for him? Is there something
     that works best for you? I know you’re busy with work and the club. I didn’t want
     to just pick a day, in case you already had plans or something.” Taking a second
     jab at passive aggressive, I mentally cross my fingers and wait for him to catch on,
     start sweating in the hot seat or at least acknowledge I’m already up on his game.
    “Maybe next week Tuesday?” he responds, going back to stirring his coffee that’s not
     going to mix together anymore than it already is.
    Epic. Fail.
    “Tuesday works for me. I’ll check with Danny later. He also mentioned something
     about a basketball game and needing an answer from you,” I quip, no longer interested
     in this conversation, annoyance pulling my attention away before I