I hesitated for a moment, confused, and then tried Plan C.
“Then I’m gonna sleep on the other side of the bed.”
“No you’re not.”
What in the hell?
I didn’t get it.
“Why?”
“Because you were sleepin’ over there and you hit me in the chest twice and kicked me in the shin three times.”
Oopsie.
I’d heard that before.
“I’m kind of an active sleeper.”
“No kidding.”
I thought about my options.
There was the floor, which apparently was not an option for me.
There was the Command Center, which I probably couldn’t breach and likely didn’t have a couch or bed considering in my imagination it was filled with supercomputers that had a direct link to the Pentagon.
My cobwebby mind chugged along for minute, registering somewhere deep down how warm and cozy I currently was.
Rosie was a little guy, at least three inches shorter than me and wiry. Rosie was also kind of asexual, never had a girlfriend, his life was coffee, pot and rock ‘n’ roll.
Lee on the other hand was not asexual. He might think of me as his little sister and could calmly sleep next to me without his ni**les getting hard (or anything else getting hard for that matter) but I was pretty certain I could not do the same.
Lee had one of those big, deep-seated couches, the better to sit on and watch Monday Night Football.
Maybe both Rosie and I would fit on the couch.
“I’ll go sleep with Rosie.”
The reply was instantaneous.
“The hell you will.”
Hmm, all sleepy-husky gone from his voice.
Lee was now all business and using that “brook no argument” tone.
I was stuck.
See, I was too afraid to go against Badass Lee Nightingale and I was too tired to try to get comfortable with Rosie.
Actually, bottom line, I was just too comfortable even to contemplate moving.
So, I went back to sleep.
It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be.
* * * * *