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“Holy shit!” I jumped so hard, I knocked her off me.
She toppled, spilling over the side of the couch, and it took an extreme effort in scrambling to catch her before she crashed to the floor.
“Sorry, sorry,” I gasped, trying to ease my breaths as I settled her back on top of me.
But Haven didn’t wake once throughout the entire ordeal.
Frowning, I pulled my face back to see her better.
Dead to the world, she must be in stage four, the deepest sleep possible.
Realizing how worn out she was, I tenderly sifted her hair out of her face with a few fingers and exhaled as I studied her.
She’d worked and finagled her way into staying in town last night so she could make it to her classes today, so I knew I should wake her and ask when her first one was, see when she needed to wake up. But I just didn’t have the heart.
Poor girl. She’d had a long, troubling night.
So, I found myself rolling her toward the backrest of the couch in order to roll myself out from under her, where I left her there, limp and drained. Then I hurried outside, where the cool morning air helped kill most of my erection, and I jogged down the steps to the basement to retrieve her cleaned sheets.
After carrying them back to the apartment and making her bed for her, I folded the sheets down and returned to the couch. She was still out cold so she didn’t wake when I picked her up and carried her to her new room, where I tucked her into her new bed. She let out a small sigh, then rolled onto her stomach and returned to the deepest of dreams.
She was a stomach sleeper. Huh. No wonder why neither of us had woken back up again in the night on the couch. I’d always been a back sleeper, so we’d both been in our natural, most comfortable state stacked up on top of each other as we’d been. Which…helped perk the morning wood back to life in me.
I retreated to my room, only to remember, shit, my sister had invaded it. I wouldn’t be able to shower with the bathroom door open as I liked. Since moving out on my own with a bathroom connected to my bedroom, I had discovered I hated showering with the door closed. It made me feel claustrophobic, so I rarely ever closed it.
Grinding my teeth over the aggravating fact that I’d have to close the door this morning, I tried to tiptoe my way to the bathroom as not to wake Izzy, because I already knew she’d want to waylay me and talk or something, but with the current state I was in, that was not a great idea.
Except, I tripped over something in the dark and slammed face-first into the floor.
“What the fuck?”
This was not right. I knew my way around my room in the dark just fine. Wondering what had been in my path, I patted my hand around until I discovered Izzy had left her numerous piles of bags right in the middle of the freaking floor.
God, she was a pain in the ass.
And Izzy didn’t sleep through the crash. “Wick?” she mumbled on a sleepy yawn. “What’re you doing?”
“I’m trying to get to the bathroom so I can take a damn shower,” I muttered, untangling a bag strap from around my leg that had attacked me like a boa constrictor. “Did you have to leave all your shit in the middle of the floor?”
“I was tired.” She yawned. “What time is it?”
“About five thirty. When do you need to get up?”
With a groan, she rolled over onto her side, facing away from me just as I reached the bathroom. “What day is it? Thursday? Wake me at nine fifteen.”
Wow, that was like sleeping the day away for me. Dryly, I answered, “I have class at eight.”
“Oh my God,” she whined. “You suck. Fine. Wake me at seven fifty…eight.” And with that, she grabbed a pillow and pulled it over her head to block me out.
I shook my head and shut myself in my bathroom, where I took an extra-long shower.
By twelve thirty, I was still dragging and felt as if everything was all out of place, even though I was technically back on track with my usual routine. I just knew that whenever I went home tonight, she’d be there. She was always going to be there from here on out.
I had no idea how I was going to adjust to that.
Walking across the main courtyard from the history building toward the business department, I shook my head, trying to convince myself I was honestly, truly roommates with Haven Gamble. It just didn’t seem real.
“Hey, you ghosting me, brother?”
