“Lay down and talk to me.” His words make something click. Between Seaborn and the friendship time, it finally occurs to me what all this might be.
“Do you miss dating?” I ask, dreading the answer.
He doesn’t look at me, which tells me more than he says. “It’s not that I miss dating.”
“Yes, it is.”
“No, I don’t trust women! I am emotionally scarred!”
I pat his shoulder. “Someone else would be different.”
“But I can’t know the future, so I don’t know that for sure.”
“You will have to settle down at some point.”
Everyone does.
“Or we can just be roommates forever.”
I barely stifle a laugh. “You know what they say about guys who are just roommates their whole lives?”
Wolfe’s expression changes to confused. Sometimes he’s just too innocent. “What?”
“Never mind, but you shouldn’t be lonely for the rest of your life because Steph is a terrible person.”
“I’m not lonely. I have you. We even gossip at night.” His words make my heart ache and my dick a little hard, and to make matters worse, he stretches out and gestures for me to join him.
Reluctantly, I do, and since it’s a king, there is plenty of room, so we’re not touching even with his size. I don’t think I could handle it tonight. “By kidnapping me.”
“Potato tomato. Not lonely.”
I roll my eyes. “You’re not going to like it when I’m grinding against you in my sleep because I haven’t gotten laid.”
“What happens in my sleep can’t hurt me.” He taps his temple like he’s come up with some hack.
I open my mouth, but my brain is empty.
Is he serious?
I try to process what he said, but it’s just not computing.
“Follow me for other tips and tricks,” Wolfe says when I still haven’t spoken.
Is he a little bisexual when drunk?
“So gay sleep sex is fine?” I shouldn’t ask, but I have to know.
His face contorts like he’s doing equations in his head. “Can’t hurt me.”
I need to go jack off immediately, or I’m going to explode and die. I start to mutter some excuse, but Wolfe is already speaking.
“I’m lucky to have you as my best friend. You turned down a blowie just to spend time with me, and that means something.” Wolfe has entered the rambling stage of drunk, and I almost feel bad being fixated on his non-objection to gay sleep sex.
“You know I love you, and I’d do anything for you,” I say, trying really hard to be nice before I run the fuck out of here.
He puts his hand on mine. “I know you would. And I’d do anything for you,” he murmurs, clearly falling asleep.
Which may or may not include sleep sex…
