“You think we’re going to sleep here? Both of us? There’s not a hell of a lot of room.”
“I’ve slept in worse, and so have you.”
Wade didn’t argue any more, just slid over so there was enough space for most of Jericho to fit onto the thin mattress.
“Not ideal,” Jericho admitted, shifting onto his side so he’d need less floor space.
Wade’s face was inches from his. “Seems okay to me.”
It wasn’t the dream. They were nowhere tropical, and they sure didn’t have the big mattress and the clean white sheets. But Wade looped his hand over Jericho’s hip and pulled him in a bit tighter, then shifted and prodded with his head until he was using Jericho’s arm as a pillow, and Jericho let his body relax.
“Yeah,” Wade said. “This is good.”
And they slept that way, close as they could be, while the sun rose and shone its light on a new day of life in Mosely, Montana.
