Page 42 of XOXO, Yours

Even though we’re in my bed, in my house. I could leave my own house. It's an option. I own shoes.

Instead, I lie very still, staring at the opposite wall in the dark. I conduct a thorough internal interrogation of every sensation currently operating in my body and find several that are deeply unwelcome.

I don’t want to be anywhere but here. Right here. Next to him.

And that’s a totally new feeling for me. All my life I’ve been moving, on to the next thing. Searching for something I couldn’t put a name to. And now I’ve found it. The idea is as comforting as it is terrifying.

I wait for the panic to hit. The feeling of my something trying to claw its way out of my body. But none of that comes. Instead, my body is relaxed and aside from my mental theatrics, everything feels right.

I should wake him up. Tell him it's late. Hand him his jacket with the brisk, and tell him I’ll see him at school on Monday.

I don't do that, though.

At some point, against every intention I have ever had, I fall back asleep.

The second time I wake up, it's morning, gray light pressing against the curtains, and the situation has not improved.

If anything, the situation has worsened. Because now Payton’s arm is definitly slung over my body and he is currently the big spoon to my little spoon.

Booty calls do not spoon.

I don’t spoon. I’ve never spooned in my life. I fork and then get out of the damned drawer.

"Morning," he says.

I take a breath. “You’re still here, Payton.”

“I am. Guess we both fell asleep.”

“This is supposed to be just sex," I say.

A pause. "I know what it is for you.”

The gentleness in his voice is worse than if he'd argued. That’s when the panic starts to creep in. So, I sit up. I grab some random clothing from the floor and head into the bathroom.

"You should go," I say over my shoulder. "I have things."

"Okay."

I can hear him out there, getting dressed. He's not going to make this a confrontation; he's just going to let me kick him out. I’m not sure I know what to do with a man who gives me exactly the exit I ask for while making it crystal clear that he wants more.

I step out of the bathroom in time to see him grab his jacket.

He gives me an easy smile. “Jules."

"Don't."

"I wasn't going to say anything."

"You were about to say something."

"I was going to say I'll see you at school Monday." He gives me a little nod. "That's all."

I cross my arms. "Fine."

"Fine." He walks to my door. And I follow.

“Have a good rest of your weekend,” he says. Then he's gone before I can answer that.