on the fucking couch, Alec. It’s not like we’re here for a night or two. You can’t spend the next four weeks or whatever sleeping on a couch that can barely fit half of your body.”
“So, what do you suggest?” There’s an edge to his words that I don’t care for.
“We’ll share the bed. It’s massive. Plenty of room for both of us.”
When he turns to face me, I raise my chin out defiantly. I’m not letting him sleep on this goddamn couch, no matter what he says.
“I can’t sleep in the same bed as you, Zach.”
I expect his tone to be argumentative, cold even. Final. But his words are said as a plea, and there’s so much vulnerability in his eyes that it breaks me.
I reach for him, but he pulls his hand away.
“Fine,” I say softly. “Then I’ll sleep on the couch. At least it’s big enough for me.”
To my utter shock, he doesn’t argue. He stands, his movements slow and dripping with exhaustion. He goes into the bedroom, only to appear a moment later with a pile of bedding in his arms. Putting it on the sofa next to me, he gazes at me, so many emotions playing on his face, but no words coming out.
“We need to talk,” I say. “But not now. Now, we’re both exhausted. I just want to take a shower and snuggle on this comfy couch.” I pat the seat next to me.
Alec gives me a tired smile. “All right. Goodnight, Zach.”
His footsteps echo in the silent room as he walks to the bedroom, closing the door behind him with a soft click.
No matter what I do, I can’t fall asleep. I took a long hot shower, snuggled in the crisp sheets, but sleep never comes. I’m tired; so tired in fact that my limbs hurt every time I change my position. But my brain won’t shut off. I’m not thinking about anything in particular; it’s just that constant noise, like buzzing, snippets of time and conversation, a glimpse of a smile or a frown. It all jumbles together, making me anxious and unable to relax enough to sleep.
In the end, I get up. Make myself a cup of chamomile tea. Drag one of the armchairs to the windows and sit, staring outside and clutching the hot mug.
The bedroom door opens, startling me. Alec stands in the doorway, rumpled and sleepy, wearing only loose pajama bottoms, hanging low on his hips.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“Can’t sleep. Sorry. Did I wake you? The teapot was too loud, wasn’t it?” I avert my eyes, pretending the sight of his body doesn’t affect me the way it does.
He runs a hand through his short hair, then over his face. “Just come over here.”
“Um…” My expression must be dumbfounded enough that he feels the need to elaborate.
“Come sleep in the bed. It’s much more comfortable.” He hesitates, then adds, “You always managed to fall asleep with me. Before, I mean. When you were too keyed up.”
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that’s a blush coloring Alec’s cheeks.
Without a word, I place the half-drunk tea on the coffee table and follow Alec inside the bedroom.
He scoots as much as he can to the right, leaving more than half of the huge bed for me. There’s only one blanket, so I lift the end and slip under it, feeling the warmth from Alec’s body even from that far away.
Somehow, it works. He’s right; I do always manage to fall asleep when he’s there. There’s something about his presence that has a calming effect on me, even when he isn’t saying anything.
Not long after I lay next to him, I feel my lids starting to droop, my blinks getting longer, until I can’t keep my eyes open, Alec’s rhythmic breathing lulling me to sleep.
Chapter twenty-five
The sun warms my skin. The light sinks through my closed lids, too bright to ignore.
With an annoyed grunt, I open an eye. And then the other. The sun’s high in the sky, the light flowing freely inside the bedroom through the floor-to-ceiling windows. There’re no curtains or blinds to stop it. In fact, as my brain slowly wakes up, I realize all the giant windows in the cabin are bare.
My focus shifts to the warm body next to me. Alec’s lying on his stomach, head buried under the pillow, snoring softly. The blanket barely covers his ass, as I’ve pulled most of it around myself, and I’m currently lying in a