I’m unabashedly giving his abs and chest a thrice over when I finally make it back to his face and catch his dark blue eyes on mine. His mouth is pulled into a smirk. He sets the weights on the floor in front of him and then takes out his earbuds.

“Hey, everything okay?”

“I feel like I should be asking you that.”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Me either.”

He drops onto the couch and wipes his forehead with his bicep. Eyeing my shoes and phone in hand, he asks, “Sneaking out?”

“I thought maybe I was keeping you from sleeping. Looks like I was right.”

He shakes his head. “It’s not you. I just don’t sleep well.”

“So you work out instead? Like the running before bed.”

A small shrug accompanies his answer. “Passes the time.”

I turn my attention to the TV, easily getting lost in the episode. He turns the volume on, and the sound reminds me of my mission. “I should go.”

“Let me grab a shirt, and I’ll walk you.”

“That’s really not necessary.” I step to the door quickly to emphasize the point.

“I’m not letting you walk home alone in the middle of the night.” He starts for the stairs. “Give me just a minute.”

Once we’re outside, I’m glad he’s with me. I’d like to think I’m pretty tough, but it wouldn’t have been the smartest move to walk home by myself.

Our pace is slow, and we walk side by side, so close our arms brush, even though there’s no one around to see us. It’s like our bodies seek each other, bridging the gap the daylight and our brains won’t allow.

There’s a puddle on the sidewalk from the sprinklers that run twice a day, and I angle my next step to avoid it and, in the process, break our connection. Goosebumps dot my arms from the chill of the night and the withdrawal of his heat. My body is quite literally protesting the separation.

Dear Brain,

This isn’t real. Get your shit together.

Signed,

Me

His beautiful blue eyes flash to me and I step in closer. This time, when our arms touch, he grabs my hand and intertwines our fingers. My heart hammers in my chest.

“Tonight was fun.”

He nods.

The dorm is in sight, and I announce it like he can’t see it for himself. I comment on the full moon. Another nod. This whole silent thing he has going on is making me too tense, too hyperaware.

“There are so many stars out.”

Silence.

“Did you live in Freddy before you—”

He pulls me to him, and the end of that sentence is cut off by the hard smack of my free hand against his chest.

“Wha—”