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“Shush. You’re sleeping here.” He places me on the bed and remains bent down, eyes staring into mine.
A moment passes between us, and when I think he’s going to kiss me, he straightens his body and clears his throat. I close my eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. My heart is beating furiously. I feel like a tower of jello on a platter, jiggling all over the place.
I reach for his hand as he walks away. Even the simple gesture feels so right. I want to hold it forever, keep his hand in mine so that I always feel safe.
When he turns to look at me with a question in his eyes, I clear my throat.
“You can sleep here, too.” His eyes widen. “I mean, there’s enough space, a-and we can both share the bed,” I begin, stuttering over my words.
I scoot to the edge and show him. “Look how much space there is. I don’t mean it in any other way.”
He nods slowly, swallowing.
“Are you sure?” he whispers.
“I know you won’t take advantage of the situation.”
“I’ll stay on my side,” he promises.
“I know you will.”
Tristan isn’t someone who would use this to his advantage. He respects me.
“We can put a pillow wall between us if you prefer.”
I laugh at his suggestion, shaking my head. “Tristan, I know you won’t be inappropriate.”
A quiet moment passes between us as he contemplates his options. I swallow and watch him, hoping this doesn’t turn into an awkward moment.
“Okay,” he says quietly. “I’ll be on my best behavior.” He crosses an X over his heart.
I nod, sliding under the covers. Tristan turns off the lights, leaving on the small lamp on his bedside table. The bed shifts under his weight, and I lay on my side, facing away from him. My stomach dips at the feel of his body next to mine, even if there are a few inches between us.
“Goodnight, Sage.”
“Goodnight, Tristan.” I smile, even though he can’t see me.
After the way we’ve been with each other tonight, there’s no reason to feel tense. Nothing more will happen, though I won’t lie to myself and say I don’t want him to wrap his arm around me or hold my hand.
I never thought my love language would be physical touch, but Tristan brings it out in me. Although, my favorite thing is how he gives me his undivided attention when I’m talking. He shows his interest and takes the time to truly listen to me.
The bed bounces a bit as Tristan shifts positions. I stay still, on my side with tight muscles.
“Sorry,” he whispers. “Are you asleep already?”
I turn to look at him over my shoulder and shake my head.
“Do you mind if I turn on the TV? I’ll leave the volume low.”
“No.” I turn and sit up in the bed, keeping the comforter over my entire body.
“Thanks,” he says.
“What are you gonna watch?” I ask him.
“I don’t know. Want to search for something?”
“Yeah,” I nod. “I think I’m still too hyped up from the wedding.” It’s a white lie.
