Longer than two weeks? Okay, Parrish would just pull up his big boy pants; he’d spent the past four years alone. He’d manage now as well.
“Thank you for calling, Ransom. I hope you’ll find your father better. Will you…do you think you’ll be able to call occasionally?”
“I’ll call you tomorrow. Good night, Parrish. Dream of me.”
Did he doubt it? Parrish already had the keycard in his wallet. He took out Ransom’s keys, removed the key to the condo’s service entrance, and slid it onto his own keyring.
* * * *
Parrish should have slept in the bed in the guestroom—that was what Ransom had seemed to want—but he couldn’t resist that master bed. He was pretty sure his lover wouldn’t mind too much. After all, Ransom had insisted Parrish stay with him the night before. And the sheets still smelled of them.