Page 95 of 10 Ways to Accidentally Fall in Love

“Oh boy,” he says, whooshing past me, his chains creaking slightly where they connect to the frame. “Sounds serious.”

“Only a little.”

“Ask away, my kangaroo.”

I huff a laugh. “Did it not help when you lived with Jason?”

He makes a small sound of acknowledgement, understanding I’m asking about his sleep, but it takes another few seconds before he answers. “It did a little. But Jason’s schedule was so sporadic while he was in nursing school. Some nights, he wasn’t even around. And when he was, I mean… It’s not like we slept together. He liked his space, which was fine. But knowing someone is there and actually feeling them is different, I guess.”

I hum, considering. “Should we make a schedule?”

“A what now?”

“A schedule for sleeping over,” I explain. “Some nights at your place, some at mine?”

Brad stops so abruptly, pieces of bark go flying in all directions when his shoes dig into the earth, his swing rotating violently before jerking to a halt. “What?”

“Would you not want to—”

“I want,” he says quickly. “I just… You’d really do that? Sacrifice your nights for…me?”

“I’m not sure why you’re under the impression that spending my nights in bed with you would be a sacrifice, bub, but I’d be happy to share your bed whenever I’m able. Believe it or not, I kinda like knowing you’re close, too.”

He blows out a breath. “If it’s too much, you have to let me know.”

“I will. But it won’t be.”

“I might hog the blankets,” he points out.

“I know.”

“I’ll probably drool on you.”

“I know that, too,” I assure him.

“I might not always go to bed as early as you.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah, okay,” he says, and then, “Ooh, I’ll make a calendar! Color-coded, of course. You’ll probably want to keep some stuffat my place, right? I can clear out a drawer. And maybe I could have some space in your closet? You wouldn’t mind me stocking some better coffee beans in your kitchen, would you? Your stuff is okay, but honestly, Joey, you could do better. What are your thoughts on aStar Wars-themed alarm? I’ve always thought ‘The Imperial March’ had a nice ring to it. Joey, you coming? It’s bedtime.”

Chuckling, I follow after Brad as he makes his way back across the park. He keeps up a running commentary the whole way to the guest house about theproperway to turn down a bed and how it makes all the difference for that moment you slide under the sheets. I nod along, not minding whether my sheets are right-side up or crinkled all to hell, so long as Brad is between them.

As soon as we get inside, Brad kicks off his shoes, shucks his sweatshirt and jeans, and falls into bed. He makes a grabby hand I assume is meant for me, so I undress and climb in after him. I’ve barely made contact with the mattress when Brad forcibly rolls me to my back. He settles over me, legs outside of mine, the entire length of him slotted against me with his cheek on my chest.

There’s a stutter beneath his ear. One I’m positive he’d hear if he’s listening for it.

But neither of us says a word. In fact, with the way Brad’s breathing has evened to a slow, steady pace, I’m more than certain he’s out. Just like that.

I swing the sheet over us, knowing, if only he’ll let me, I’ll do my very best to keep all of his nightmares at bay.

“Here. Suck.”

I raise an eyebrow, but Brad simply thrusts his finger closer to my face.

“Suck me, Joey.”

“You should…maybe consider rephrasing that.”

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