Page 113 of Debugging Love

“Oh. Of course.” I grab the pillows beside me and toss them one at a time. He spikes them to the floor, and then he lies down. I watch his hands as he arranges the blanket.

“Do you want to watch something else?” I ask.

“No, I’m good.” It’s followed by a groan as he adjusts his position.

“Okay, then. Good night.” I turn off the TV and flip off the light.

“Good night.”

Several minutes pass as I stare into the darkness, face up on a comfy bed that could fit three people. Four even, if you got creative. The mattress stretches to my left, miles and miles of it, untouched. Uncharted territory for my arms and legs if they decide to travel that way, which they won’t because I’m a calm sleeper. I’ve literally fallen asleep on my back and woken up on my back. I don’t think I moved the entire night.

“Are you comfortable?” I say into the shadows.

Chance sniffs. “More comfortable than I would be if I was lying on, say…a bed of nails.”

“Have you ever laid on a Shakti mat?”

“You mean those acupressure mats covered in little white spikes?”

“Yeah.”

“No.”

“The pain is supposed to release endorphins.”

“Is that why I feel like I just ran fifteen miles?”

“Huh?”

“Runners high. Endorphins.”

“You’re that uncomfortable?”

“Only when I remember I’m on the floor in a comfy hotel. If I pretend I’m in prison, it puts everything in perspective. For a prison, this is pretty good.”

I toss back the comforter, crawl to the foot of the bed, and peer down at Chance. Not only is his “blanket” as thin as a sheet, it only covers three-quarters of his body. His bare feet are open to the arctic blast coming from the AC.

“Why are you laughing at me,” Chance says.

I can just make out his wide grin. “This isn’t fair,” I say when my laughter dies down. “I have room up here.”

“Do coworkers share beds?”

“Morgan and I did last night.”

“Oh. In that case.” He springs up, gripping both pillows in one hand. “I won’t come anywhere near your personal space.”

A rogue thought enters my mind:But what if I want you near my personal space?No way am I saying it out loud. I shouldn’t even be thinking it.

Chance pulls down the covers on his side of the bed, climbs in, and lets out a satisfied sigh. “This is heaven,”

“You were only on the floor for five minutes.”

“Long enough for me to appreciate life’s blessings.”

I chuckle again.

We both fall silent and a palpable sense of…silliness washes through me from head to toe. I don’t push it away or try to explain it, but I keep it to myself and snuggle into its warmth.

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