I’m going to fall asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.
I won’t even know he’s in bed with me.
And I am the worst liar ever.
I have to do something about this.
Before I pile on even more regrets.
29
Davis
Sloane watchesme make a bed on the floor after Sarah leaves and after we’ve both had separate quick showers, but she doesn’t say anything.
Out loud anyway.
Her eyes are saying plenty as she sits there in the middle of the mattress.
So is her tongue.
It keeps darting over her lips.
I flop onto the pile of blankets with my back to her and come face-to-butt with her cat. “You should’ve stayed inside. I won’t go treasure hunting without you.”
“If that mortar ball randomly exploded and took out the cabin and your trailer, would you miss it?”
“No. You can shut the light off whenever you want. Or leave it on all night if you sleep better that way. Doesn’t matter either way to me.”
“What’s Denver?”
“Nothing.”
“Bro Code was supposed to play in Denver the week before I had my tickets in Charlotte.”
Huh.
There is, apparently, something that can solve the boner situation.
I roll over and look at her. “Band broke up in Denver. You remember correctly.”
“Why?”
“Off-limits.”
“To protect one of your friends?”
“No.”
“To protect you then. That’s why Sarah doesn’t know either.”
I don’t answer.
What happened in Denver—no one talks about it.
For me.
To protect me.
