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Casey laughs, but it’s not a funny laugh. It’s sad. “I don’t think I would have liked it if we hadn’t slept together. I would have felt even more unwanted than I already did…”
“Oh, Casey…” I step forward without thinking, grabbing the hand by his side. His fingers squeeze me before I can decide if I should let go and apologize, almost like he’s afraid I’ll pull away. I hold on tighter. “You were never unwanted.”
He makes a noncommittal sound, like maybe he doesn’t believe me. “Can we go to bed?”
I take a breath, deciding to let the topic go for now. “Of course. Let me hit the bathroom. Unless you need to?”
“No. I’m fine.” He eyes the bed. “Do you mind if I… get in? On my side?”
His side.
God, I like him having his own side of my bed way too fucking much…
“Go ahead. Get comfortable. I’ll be right back.”
He nods before heading toward the bed. I go in the opposite direction, hurrying through my nightly routine. He’s tucked into his usual spot by the time I return. I notice he’s wearing his sweater still, which makes me stop short. Should I wear clothes? I hate sleeping in clothes, but I don’t want to make him uncomfortable.
“Everything okay?” he asks, his voice cracking with worry.
“Of course.” I plug my phone into the charger and hook my thumb over my shoulder. “I’m just going to change out of these clothes. Pull on some sweats and a shirt.”
He frowns. “But you like to sleep in your underwear.”
“I mean… yes, I usually do.” I rub at the back of my neck. “But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“I think we’ve passed that point. Strip down, weirdo.”
I smile, strangely pleased he just called me a weirdo. That must mean he’s getting more comfortable with me, right?
I strip down to my boxer briefs and climb into my usual spot, giving him a brief smile before turning the lamp off and getting comfortable. “Night, Casey.”
“Good night, Jake.”
That should be the end of things. It’s the middle of the night, I’m dead with exhaustion, and he’s probably not holding up well from the emotional rollercoaster that’s been his life lately. We should crash hard.
But we don’t.
I’d like to blame him - he’s restless, shifting around every minute or so, sighing softly in between - but I’m feeling just as restless on the inside.
“What’s wrong?” I finally ask him, turning my head on the pillow to see his silhouette in the glow of the floor lights.
“I used to sleep in clothes. Before, I mean. I liked being all bundled up and cozy.” He sighs again. “But now… they’re so fucking clunky. And they bunch up in weird places. And I’m hot.”
I try not to laugh, knowing it’s not funny. “Strip down then. I don’t mind.”
“I just wanted to be normal.”
“You’re going to have a new normal, Casey.” I push up on my elbow, wanting him to know this is serious to me. Wanting him to know that I care. “It fucking sucks, but you’re never going to be able to go back to who you were. You have to rebuild. Maybe your new normal is to sleep without clothes. That’s okay.”
He squeezes his eyes shut, his voice wobbling when he says, “I hate them. I hate all of them so fucking much.”
I don't have to ask who.
“I know.” I run my hand through his hair, unable to stop myself even though I no longer have the excuse of being his owner to hide behind. “We’re going to fucking kill as many of them as we can, I promise.”
He jerks his head in a nod before starting to remove his clothes under the covers, dropping each article to the floor. I settle back on the mattress so we can try the whole sleep thing again.
We last maybe 90 seconds before he makes an adorable growly sound and announces, “Sleep is stupid.”
