Two bodies. Laying still. Breathing.
Feelings in the dark.
And I won’t be able to hide a damn thing.
And what’s worse? What if I don’t sleep at all?
What if I lie there wide-eyed till sunrise,
counting every breath he takes?
Wait.
No.
Worse than that?—
What if, for the first time, Idosleep?
All night.
Deep.
Wake up inside his arms
and don’t wanna leave them?
Oh, shit.What then?
Seriously.
What the fuck then?
I’m standing at the bottom step of the finished basement, where it’s cold and smells of Andrew?—
detergent, leather, cedar, leftover cologne.
He said,“Everything’s set. Fresh towel. Somethin’ to wear. Got the shower goin’. Takes a minute to heat.”Then his stare brushed mine, as if he was two seconds from abandoning the leftovers to join me.
I didn’t realize I close my eyes every time I breathe in his scent.
Not until now.
Like my heart inhales him,
then my head panics and pulls the blinds.
There’s a washer and dryer in the corner,
where an ironing board’s left out.
A whole second living room.
His bedroom.
His bathroom—light on, shower running.
A large leather sectional,
