She raises a brow, her lips twitching.
“Not like that,” I laugh.
“Well, it’s officially the laundry chair now,” she announces, tossing a sweatshirt onto it.
While she shuts herself in the bathroom, I climb under the covers and situate the damn pillow wall she’s created.
“Hey,” she says as she appears again. “Who says you get the left side of the bed?”
Frowning, I sit upright on the mattress. “What are you talking about? This is the right side.”
She looks at me like I’ve just told her the Earth is flat.
“I’m in the bed, and I’m on therightside.”
For a second, I catch her checking out my bare chest, but she gives her head a tiny shake and focuses on my face again. “That’s not how you determine which side of the bed it is.”
“Enlighten me.” I wave a hand.
“If I’m looking at the bed,” she says, hands on her hips at the foot of the mattress, “you’re on the left side.”
“Okay, but you sleep in a bed, so sides have to be determined once you’rein the bed.”
She lifts her chin, scoffing. “That makes absolutely no sense.”
“Youmake absolutely no sense.” I laugh out loud. This isliterally the most ridiculous debate I think I’ve ever been involved in—and that’s saying a lot, since I teach middle school.
“Whatever.” She rolls her eyes. “Agree to disagree. But do you mind if I have that side?”
It makes no difference to me which side I sleep on, so I scoot—to my left—at her request. Only the wall of pillows stops me. Clumsily, I shimmy beneath them, staying under the covers, then rearrange them once I’m settled. “Are you getting in?”
“Um, can you turn around?”
I sit up and grin. “Why? Do you turn into an ogre at night?”
“Ha ha, very funny. At least I don’t look like one all the time.”
With a mock gasp, I toss a pillow at her, which she easily dodges.
As she straightens, she sobers, her expression going pensive. “Actually, I, uh, kinda don’t sleep in clothes, so I need you to face the other way.”
Heart stuttering, I gape. “That makes two of us.”
With a brow arched, she crosses her arms over her chest. “Excuse me? You can’t sleep in the nude if I’m sleeping in the nude.”
I match her stance, crossing my arms. “Why not?”
“Because…” She trails off, as if she doesn’t have a valid reason. “This is absurd. Just put some clothes on.”
“Why me? If you’re so uncomfortable, then you should be the one to keep your clothes on.”
“I can’t sleep in pajamas. I have…” Eyes darting around the room, she worries her lip. “Sensory issues.”
This time I swear my heart stumbles over itself. “That makes two of us.Again. Being restricted in clothes while I sleep is a nightmare.”
“Me too,” she whispers, her eyes widening. “Shit. This is awkward. What are we going to do?” She peers over her shoulderand out the open door, like she’s considering sleeping on the sofa after all.
“We have this heavy-duty pillow thing. It’ll be like we’re sleeping in separate beds. It’s fine.”
