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I roll over and onto the floor with a plop before fumbling up to my feet.
Holden is already at the bed, crawling inside, and I trip toward him, falling face-first onto the bed and inhaling his scent.
“This reminds me of your ass,” I murmur, and Holden laughs as he turns out the light.
“My assisamazing. Now, come on, big guy. Get in and go to sleep.”
I crawl under the covers and scoot over until I’m pressed up against him. He stiffens as my hand moves across his bare waist.
“You a snuggler?” he asks, his voice rough.
“Apparently,” I say and then bury my face in his neck. “You smell like seaweed.”
He huffs a laugh of amusement and then relaxes completely. “You sure know how to woo a guy.”
“I am the woowiest.”
And I float off to sleep.
* * *
The scenery comesto me in flashes and bursts of color. My groggy eyes blink open, and I’m not in my apartment. I see Holden sprawled out on the bed, his arms thrown out, one pressed against my face, his leg draped across mine. He’s a bed hog and a snorer. A loud one. I’m surprised I slept through that. The wonders of a coconut bong, I presume.
Carefully, I pluck his hand off my cheek and it flops to the covers as a loud snort escapes his mouth.
He sounds like one of the pigs back on my farm in South Dakota. Maybe that’s why he doesn’t sleep with people. He’s embarrassed he sounds like a hog.
My stomach rumbles and aches, hungry from falling asleep last night empty while high. It needs to be fed.
I roll off the bed and am surprised when I don’t feel hung over. It’s nothing like when I drank that twelve-pack of beer back home and passed out face down in the dirt. I woke up the next morning all sorts of hung over. My head felt like it was gonna crack open and my stomach roiled. Right now, I feel perfectly fine. Maybe I should trade in alcohol for weed.
Should give it a go and see. For science.
Slipping out of bed, I move to the bathroom to piss again, and when I come back out, I wonder what the fuck I’m supposed to do. I don’t have the key to my room. Maybe I should head to Polly’s apartment and see if she has it, though I don’t know where that is.
Should probably wake Holden up, but he looks so peaceful, snoring away, not a care in the world.
But I can’t linger here forever. Vague memories assault me, ones where he told me he didn’t like to sleep with people. And there I’d been, curled up around him. In his bed.
He probably wants me to leave. He’s tired of it all now.
I run a hand down my face and then make my way over to his side of the bed, jostling him slightly.
An unholy snort bursts from his lips, and his eyelids pop open.
“Gonna bake you like bread,” he shouts, and I rear back, not sure what to make of that.
Holden presses a hand to his chest and breathes deeply.
“Fuck, Chase. Why are you looming?”
“Why you gonna bake me like bread?” I ask, and he smiles, looking adorably rumpled.
“I don’t know…what else did I say?” he asks, looking flustered.
“This why you don’t like people staying over? Because you say weird things and you snore?”
“I do not snore,” he huffs and then sits up, groaning slightly.
