Page 43 of For One Night Only

By one a.m., we’re both hoarse from singing the same lines over and over, but it’s obvious we’re pleased with the progress on “Daydreams Like This” as we pack away guitars and notebooks until our next session. For a heartbeat, I wonder if he’ll crash on my bed like old times.

It really wasn’t sexual at first, the bed sharing. We’d work on songs until we were exhausted, so we’d fall asleep, so comfortable sharing a space that we didn’t give it that much thought. And then we weretogetherand so tangled up in each other that we didn’t sleep apart for years, even though we kept our relationship as private as we could. We were always good at keeping secrets, even if people assumed they knew what was going on.

And sleeping next to each other always made sense. Even now, I probably wouldn’t stop him if he started to doze.

But he doesn’t. Ever the gentleman, Caleb treads sleepily into his own room once we’re finally done for the night. Because he washere for hours, the blankets are mussed from his spot at the foot of my bed, and I want to curl up in his phantom warmth.

Hurriedly, I smooth out the duvet, but Caleb’s presence in the room is still so palpable I can’t bear it. Every inch of my skin is buzzing with awareness, and the idea of sleep suddenly feels like nothing more than a distant possibility. As I brush my teeth, I can’t imagine how I’m supposed to just go to bed. I don’t know if I should eat a snack or get myself off or just take a fucking sleep aid, but I don’t do any of that.

Just like my therapist taught me, I make a list in my Notes app of everything on my mind:

working with Caleb again

finally talking about The Proposal

pretending I’m not still attracted to Caleb (becausedamn)

reuniting with the Glitter Bats and fixing those friendships

the fate ofEpic Theme Song

hundreds of jobs onEpic Theme Songdepending on my reputation

dealing with Label Records and their bullshit

the weirdness of Mom’s visit today

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