"What are you doing in my kitchen?" he asks groggily as he makes his way over to the barstools. I laugh at the way he rubs his eyes. "Making pancakes." He squints up at me, hangover all over his face. "Why are you doing it so early in the morning?" "First of all, it's noon." I shake my head as I flip a pancake over. "And second of all, Saturday mornings are basically made for pancakes."
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