It takes him a minute before he rolls off me. This time I think we’re both too spent to clean up properly. He swipes at me half-heartedly with the dirty washcloth and then throws it to the floor. Then he positions us so we’re spooning, him behind me with one strong arm wrapped around my waist.

Sleep threatens to overtake me. But before I succumb, I think about how Travis has already told me I can count on him whenever I need anything. Now he’s reminding me that I have people in this town who care about me. And with the way he’s holding me tightly against him... I don’t think he’s talking about Mitch or Mrs. Morris or Sal the mailman.

I can’t read too much into this though. We can mix friendship and sex, but that doesn’t mean we could ever have anything more. What I want from him is becoming increasingly confusing, but I know that he doesn’t want more than this.

So I can’t let myself want it either.

It’s like that sad song Elphaba sings in Wicked. You shouldn’t wish for something that’s out of your reach, because that way, you can’t be disappointed when you don’t get it.

I mean, sure, she also sings about defying gravity, but I’m not about to try flying, okay? I need to keep my feet on the ground and my head in reality.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

TRAVIS

This is the first morning I’ve woken up with Brenden in the same positions we went to sleep in. It’s also the first time we went to sleep cuddling. Last night, after I came my brains out between his thighs, holding him simply felt like the right thing to do. I’d been too sated and exhausted to wonder if it was weird.

Now, in the light of morning, one of my arms is sore from the way it’s been awkwardly wedged between us all night, while my other arm is comfortably wrapped around his waist. It still feels right to have his warm body pressed tightly to mine, but everything is also confusing.

Because I know it’s not right. He’s not mine to hold. Not really.

Maybe he is for now, but it’s only temporary. Only for fun. Once our charade is over, this will be over between us too. I have to be ready to handle that and move on.

And it’s going to fucking suck, isn’t it?

The smart thing to do would be to protect myself from falling for him as best as I can. I should get up and leave. Go about my day and try to forget how perfectly he fits in my arms.