Better beach than Nudgee,I add, trying to sound nonchalant.
Maybe I’ll sleep in Porter's bed tonight.
Would that be fucked up?
The door is locked when I try.
I return to my room, sulking.
I’m so miserable, I don’t even feel like a wank.
Laying on my side, I wait for another message.
Ping.
Landed safely, darl, Beth writes.Miss you already. Talk soon xx
Miss you too,I say.So much.
Not a peep from Porter.
I fall asleep with the phone in my hand.
???
Tap tap tap.
It takes me a moment to register the sound.
Tap tap.
Tap tap tap.
The room is still dark when I open my eyes.
Barely four in the morning, according to my radio clock.
A pair of boots shuffle on the other side of my door.
“Franko?”
I stumble across the carpet and give the knob a twist.
“Nope. I have a better ass,” Porter grins.
My dreams are getting so vivid.
This one almost feels real.
“Three nights without you is too long,” he whispers.
An affectionate hand ruffles my pillow-warped hair.
Halfway through our kiss, I reach out to touch his arm.
“Not a dream,” I mumble.
“Not a dream, no,” he laughs.
