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“Want some company?”
Long About the Time
The sun shows its face, I am spent,
woozy, not quite asleep. Brad has
managed to slip into dreams and I
listen to his shallow breathing.
It’s hypnotic, and I steal lower
and lower toward the nowhere
place between consciousness
and blessed sleep. Somewhere
there’s a noise. A door closes.
Footsteps? On the stairs? I can’t
move. I’m weighted, shackled.
I should. I must. But I’m close
to oblivion. My door creaks open.
The long, silent pause tells me
it isn’t one of the girls. Footsteps
across the floor. I’m afraid.
Rooted. Not even the sound of
fabric falling against the carpeting
convinces me to move. Somehow,
this person is familiar.
Behind me, the sheets part.
Move over, Trey whispers, and
I do and it makes no difference
that Brad is semisoundly sleeping
beside us. Trey pulls me to him
and I stiffen, terrified of what he
must be thinking. It’s okay, he
whispers, and we’re making love.
