“It’s really fine,” Jude says. “I barely have to deal with them at all. It’s mainly just the holidays that suck.”
I imagine Jude in that setting—surrounded by homophobic shitheads and close-minded assholes—and I’m enraged again. “Well, maybe next time you have to go to a holiday function, I could tag along and make it suck a little less.”
Jude giggles but seems to actually consider it. “That might be really nice. We could pretend you’re my boyfriend. That would make them leave me alone because they’d think I was straight and cis again.”
I frown. “Wouldn’t that just be giving them what they want?”
“Yeah, but it wouldn’t be real. They don’t have to know that you’re ace and that I have a girlfriend. We’re already best friends, so it wouldn’t be hard. They see what they want to see anyway. Plus, we’d have fun, because we always have fun together.”
They have a point. I begin to chew on the idea myself before remembering that Jude is completely wasted and will likely have no memory of this conversation tomorrow. “Maybe,” I say with a smile. “Let’s talk about it tomorrow.”
Jude leans back into me, a blissed-out grin on their face. “Okay.”
My eyes fall closed as I savor the moment; the comforting weight of Jude’s body next to mine. The rise and fall of their chest. The subtle scents of sandalwood and vanilla in their hair. The party continues around us, but all I need is right here.
The abrupt sound of an air mattress inflator startles me awake, and Jude jolts against me, too. I don’t remember drifting off to sleep on the couch with Jude, but after I glance at a little clock on the media stand, I see why I had—it’s 2:49 AM.
“Jude?” A half-asleep Celeste gives Jude a gentle nudge. “Hey, come on, hon’, let’s get your futon set up so you can sleep.”
Jude groans, but we manage to pull ourselves off the couch and go our separate ways. I retrieve my overnight bag from Grace’s room, use the bathroom, and brush my teeth. By the time I return to the living room, Jude is already settled on the futon—they’ve changed out of their costume into a baggy teal T-shirt and black shorts and are wearing the cutest glasses I’ve ever seen.
As soon as their eyes meet mine, they smile. “There you are.”
“Here I am.”
Jude pats the space beside them, and I cautiously sit at the foot of the futon—just for a minute. Jude lays their head back against the pillow and lets out a contented sigh. “I’m so sleepy.”
“Me, too,” I say, unable to stop yawning, which makes them yawn, too. We share a laugh, then end up staring at each other for what feels like several minutes. They look so peaceful, cozy, and soft. I wish more than anything that I could snuggle up beside them and hold them close for the rest of the night.
God, I need some sleep.
After a moment, I stand with a grunt and step back a few paces. “Well, it’s about that time. Sleep well, Jude.”
“No,” Jude whines. “Don’t go.”
Warily, I return to the edge of the futon. “I have to. You’re not sober enough to agree to my sharing a bed with you.”
“But I don’t want to sleep by myself, and Celeste and Max already went to sleep.” They look up at me with those blue-green sea glass eyes, and I nearly crumble on the spot. “Please?”
I glance around the room. Theo and Caleb are whispering to each other on a shared air mattress a few feet from Harrison, Wren, and Vimlesh, who are on their own air mattresses. Celeste is softly snoring on the sectional with Max, their heads sharing the sectional’s corner cushion. Grace and Chloe are quietly putting away food in the kitchen, but they’ll soon head to their own bedrooms.
Admittedly, I only brought a sleeping bag and was perfectly content sleeping on the floor, but Harrison had offered to share his queen-sized air mattress with me. However, Harrison has clearly forgotten his offer, as he’s sprawled across the center of his mattress, scrolling on his phone.
Jude was supposed to share the full-sized futon with Nikki. I shouldn’t be the one to take her place next to Jude.
But then again… I’m here. And Nikki’s not.
“Oliver?”
“Okay,” I whisper. “Scooch over.”
Jude grins and shifts to make room for me. The sheets are silky smooth, already warmed by Jude’s body heat, and the pillow is perfectly plush. This will be so much better than sleeping on the floor or sharing a mattress with Harrison.
“Comfy?” Jude asks through a yawn.
“Snug as a bug in a rug,” I reply. “Sweet dreams, Jude.”
“Sweet dreams, Oliver.”
