Chapter Thirty-Six
Anna
Despite the fact that he’s on crutches, Drew makes short work of getting into his room. A familiar gleam is in his eyes, one that makes me go all hot and fluttery inside. I have my concerns about having sex with him right now. He’s got to be hurting. Inadvertently jostling his leg and injuring him further is the last thing I want to do. Then again, kissing him on the couch has me so worked up, I know that if he touches me all my good intentions will topple like a house of cards in a stiff breeze.
Drew reaches the center of the room before he stops. I cleaned here too, and though I don’t think he minds, part of me still worries. I took over his house with impunity, making myself at home before we’ve even settled things. At the time, I pushed this all aside in favor of assuring his comfort, but he’s here now, seeing what I’ve done.
His golden eyes find mine and they’re smiling, soft and tender. “My mom used to give me fresh sheets when I was sick. It always felt good to slide into a clean bed.” His mouth quirks. “I’m not saying I think of you like my mom, just that...well, I appreciate it.”
“My mom did that too. Maybe it’s a mom thing.”
He holds my gaze. “If you’re ever sick, I promise to change the sheets for you.”
Warmth floods my veins. One small statement, promising a future.
He heads to the bathroom. “I’m dying for a shower. I swear to God, I stink like hospital.”
“Just a little,” I tease, following. I’ve got the room set up for this eventuality.
Drew’s bathroom is gorgeous. Heated floors of a dark, distressed wood, white glass tiles, and a massive walk-in shower encased in frosted-glass panels, the space resembles a luxury spa. A white bowl sink rests on a teak cabinet base. He lays his crutches there as he reaches in to turn on his shower, and water falls from the big rain showerhead. Almost instantly, the air begins to grow sultry and humid.
His eyes glint again as he turns. “Gonna join me, Jones?” He wags his brows like a stage villain before tugging his shirt over his head.
Good God, but I’m never going to get over the splendor that is his chest, or the way those taut muscles move and flow beneath his honeyed skin.
“Not today.” I picture his chest all wet and glistening, running my tongue along the groove in his abdomen, right down the happy trail of dark hair that leads to his thick—
“Spoilsport.” He sighs. “Though I’m guessing we’d end up on our asses when I’m in this condition.”
Blinking rapidly to clear my dirty mind, I reach over and grab the garbage bag and surgical tape I’ve set on a shelf.
“Speaking of...” I hold them up and give his leg a pointed look. While the doctor said Drew could get his cast wet, it will take hours to dry off and won’t be comfortable for him.
“Kinky.” Keeping his eyes on mine, he hooks his thumbs on the waist of his shorts and eases them off, revealing those long, strong legs of his and the weighty cock that has brought me so many hours of pleasure. I swallow hard. I’ve missed this part of him too. He’s already growing thicker, his cock curving as it begins to rise under my stare.
With effort I raise my gaze up to his face, which is currently wearing a smug yet hot expression. I give him a level look. “Behave.”
“What?” He’s all innocence. “I’m taking a shower here, Jones. Gotta get naked to do that.”
“Whatever.” And because I can be a tease too, I kneel before him, my face inches from the heat of his cock. It twitches, the musky scent of him filling my nostrils. I look up at him, my smile sweet. “Lift your leg.”
A pulse visibly beats at the base of his throat as he gazes down at me. Slowly he lifts his cast-covered leg an inch. The garbage bag rustles as I ease it under his foot and begin to pull it over him. Drew’s flat abdomen lifts and falls in a steady, quick cadence.
His leg is so long, the bag barely makes it to the top of the cast. With quick movements, I wrap the ends up with surgical tape, not missing the way his cock is now standing proud and waiting. Longing fills me. I know how he will taste, salty and sweet, how he will feel against my tongue, heavy and firm. Instead, I look into his eyes. “There now, all set.”
Drew swallows audibly, his hips canting just a bit as if he can’t help it.
“You love torturing me, don’t you?” It’s a husky whisper, barely heard over the steady rush of the shower.
I lick my dry lips, noting the way his breath catches as I do. “It’s only fair, you know.”
“Why is that, Jones?” But he knows. I can see it in his eyes, those fuck me eyes that both challenge and make promises.
I cup his ass, that fantastically firm ass that features prominently in so many of my dirty dreams. My finger strokes his little battle axe tattoo, and his nostrils flare in a sharply drawn breath.
“Because,” I say, “you only have to be standing there to torture me.”
“You’ve just made countless painful hours of exercise worth it.”
A teasing note lightens his tone but shadows creep into his eyes. Drew doesn’t work out to impress people. His body is a tool, finely honed to perform at the optimum level. And now it’s broken. I know he’s fighting off the fear and has been since the sack.
My knees protest as I rise. On my way up, I pause and kiss the smooth, hot tip of his cock, and he hisses. Before I’m fully standing, he cups my neck and pulls me in. His biceps bulge as his arms bend, and then his mouth is on mine, his kiss tempting me with little licks, soft sucks, and sharp needy breaths. His cock pokes my belly as I lean into him, and I’m so hot, so wet that I nearly forget why this is a bad idea.
He sways on his feet, the long length of his body threatening to topple.
I pull back. “Drew...”
He doesn’t let me go, but sighs. “All right, all right. I’ll be good for now.” His eyes meet mine, and I see the heat in them. “But you’re going to pay for that one, Jones.”
“I’ll be waiting for it, Baylor.” Tenderly, I kiss his mouth, lingering just enough to have him follow when I pull away. I smile at him. “Now, take your shower.”
He gives my upper lip a soft nip before backing away. “Heartless wench.” And then, before I can change my mind and grab him, he hobbles into the shower and stands under the spray.
No, I will not watch. I will not. My mouth goes dry. Those fine muscles are defined by taut skin, all slick and shining. Water runs in rivulets off his still half-hard cock. I suck in a breath and close the door on his knowing laugh.
Fleeing to the relative safety of Drew’s room, I pull back the covers on the bed and arrange the pillows so he can lie comfortably. It feels good doing this for him, yet anticipation bumps around in my belly. I am going to sleep here with him. I’ve done so before. Though never like this, never planned and without the promise of sex. I prefer this way, knowing that I’m here because I simply want to be with him. Letting go frees me more than I thought possible.
I’m smiling as I catch a glance in the mirror, then halt in horror. My hair has a fuzz factor of ten.
“Holy hell.” Mad snarls stand out around my head. I’m like a girl version of freaking Carrot Top. And I’ve been flirting with Drew like this. I almost moan in distress, but stifle it when I hear the shower stop.
I grab my toiletries bag as he comes into the room.
Drew, of course, does not bother with a towel. No, he’s perfectly fine limping in butt-naked and giving me a cheeky grin.
“I’m taking a shower,” I say as I edge past him, dying to hold down my angry hair.
He raises a brow. “Then why didn’t you shower with me?”
“You know why.”
I’m almost to safety.
“Wasting water is a crime in some states, Jones,” he calls, as I scuttle into the bathroom.
“Good thing we don’t live in one of those states.” I close the door on him.
Despite my hair nightmare, Drew’s shower is heaven. I bend my neck and let the hot water pour down on my aching muscles. But I don’t linger long. I want to be with Drew now.
Putting on enough product to make my hair behave, I look around for my nightshirt and curse. I’ve forgotten it. And while I’m not shy about Drew seeing me naked, it seems like a tease to do it now. Not that going out wrapped in a towel won’t be either. I could put on my clothes, but they stink of hospital too. Then I spy one of his shirts hanging on the back of the bathroom door. It smells clean, so I take it, only to realize that it’s one of his jerseys.
I slip the jersey over my head, and it falls to my knees, the sleeves flopping around my elbows. I dither, wondering whether to keep it on when I hear him from the other room.
“Did you get lost in there, Jones?”
Rolling my eyes, I put some lotion on my legs. “Impatient much?”
“Hey,” he says from the room. “What’s with this little jar here?”
I crack the door open. “It’s olive oil.” I’d left a small jar of it on his bedside table. “The team physical therapist said you might be sore, and I didn’t have any massage oil so...”
“You talked to my PT?” He sounds surprised, but not angry.
“Of course.” I walk into the room. “I wouldn’t be much help to you if I didn’t. I can massage your leg now if you... What?”
I stop at the foot of the bed. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
Because he’s hauling himself up from his slouch in the bed, his muscles bunched and tense, and he’s gaping at me. For a moment we simply stare at each other. God, but he’s a sight. The lamplight glows warmly on his golden skin, a sharp contrast to the white bedding that lies low over his narrow hips, the cover more a tease then a barrier.
Drew breaks the silence.
“You...” He clears his throat. “You’re seriously trying to kill me, aren’t you?”
“Are you high?” I laugh softly, but my heart rate has increased to an excited flutter.
“Maybe.” His lips curl into a tilted smile. “You look utterly, spectacularly hot in my jersey, Anna Jones.”
“You are high.”
“Come here.” He holds his hand out to me. “Like now.”
Shaking my head, I go to him, and promptly yelp when he grabs hold of my wrist and yanks me onto the bed.
“Easy,” I admonish as I straddle his lap, facing him. “I’m not going to be happy if you make me kick your leg.”
“Screw the leg.” His hands settle on my hips.
Since I have him all to myself, I explore the silken skin of his chest with my hands, loving the dense muscles and the heat he gives off. Drew is always warm.
“Feeling all right?” My voice is soft with a protectiveness I hadn’t known myself capable of.
“Feeling pretty damn fine now, Jones.” He lifts a hand and gently traces one of the ironed-on numbers that rests over my right breast. My nipple stiffens under his touch, and he lingers there, drifting back and forth. “This looks a lot better on you than it does on me.”
And though heat is in his gaze, I hear the hitch in his voice and the darkness. My heart clenches. I try to shift away, but he holds me tight, a frown working between his brows as he looks at me in question.
“I shouldn’t have worn this. It was insensitive.” Why didn’t I realize he’d remember his loss when he saw the jersey?
He gives my hip a squeeze. “Yes, you should. Every damn night, if I have my say.” He fights valiantly for a smile.
Wanting to soothe him, I caress his shoulders. “All right. If you wear this every night.”
“But I’m not wearing anything, Jones.”
“I know.” I give him a soft kiss.
Our lips cling, and he threads a hand through my hair.
“You’re so beautiful to me,” he says against my mouth.
I pull back to look him in the eyes. “To you?”
He often says that, and part of me wonders if others have said something contrary to him.
“To me.” His fingers trace the curve of my shoulder, brushing a lock of hair over it. “When we’re together, it’s just you and me. No one else exists.”
He makes me want to cry, to tell him things I’ve never allowed myself to think, much less say aloud.
“Drew.” I press my fist against his chest. “You can’t keep saying these perfect things to me.” I give him a wobbly smile. “I mean, how am I supposed to match that?”
He chuckles. “Are you giving me grief for being too romantic?”
“No.” I kiss his cheek, high up by the corner of his eye. “Maybe. I find that, when it comes to you, I’m competitive too.”
Another laugh rumbles in his chest. “Game on, then?”
“Yeah.” I kiss his other cheek.
He sighs, touches my neck, a light stroke. “Hit me with it, Jones.”
“Drew?” I nuzzle his ear.
“Yeah?”
“I think you’re real cute,” I drawl.
He bursts out laughing. “Oh, wow,” he deadpans. “I’ve just been schooled.”
“You know it.”
I’ve missed him. Happiness is a blade that cuts into my heart.
His warm palm skims up my thigh until his thumb brushes the curls between my legs. Immediately, my insides clench. More so when his voice lowers roughly. “Ah, I missed this. I missed the perfection of your pussy.”
“Oh, that’s smooth.”
“Classy too.”
We snicker, but another light touch of his thumb makes me utterly wet. He feels it and sighs, resting his forehead against mine. “Anna Jones’s pussy. Total perfection.”
“I’m thinking of having a T-shirt made up that say just that.” I’m trying not to squirm against his roaming finger.
“At the very least, have it imprinted on your underwear.” He flickers a thumb over my clit.
“I’ve decided to forgo underwear altogether.” I’m breathless. “Seems a shame to cover perfection, you know?”
“Good plan. Don’t want to smother our girl here.”
“You’re so thoughtful, Drew.”
Though we’re joking, and he’s doing his best to turn me on, that somber air still hangs over him. His breathing is too slow and heavy, as if he has a massive weight on his chest. And my heart hurts for him. Especially when he absently traces the numbers on my chest once more.
“Hey.” I cup his cheek. “You will wear one again. Don’t you dare think otherwise.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I mean it, Drew. You will.”
The corners of his eyes crease with worry. “What makes you so sure, beautiful?”
“Because it isn’t in you to quit.”
Drew’s smile is slow, but wide. “Kiss me, Anna.”
We meet halfway. Instantly, I open to him, and his tongue dips in to taste me. I shiver, loving the way he touches me, and he breathes into me on a sigh.
Under the sheet, his cock rises hard and strong, nestling between my legs. I rock against it, and we both groan. Drew cups my cheeks, holds me where he wants me.
“I love your lips.” He suckles my bottom lip, plays with my mouth in that delicious way of his.
“I love the way you kiss,” I say.
He hums, the vibration making my mouth tinge. He kiss goes deep then light. “I love you.”
The words slap into me, and my entire body seizes. I’m shaking as I pull back to look at him. His expression is tender but wary. He knows he’s turned my world on its ear.
“What did you say?” I choke out.
“You heard me.” His tone is cautious, as if he’s waiting for me to run away but hoping I won’t.
Tears blur my vision. My body feels like lead. I sag in his arms and slump against his chest. Gently, he lifts me up a bit until he can see me.
“Hey.” He thumbs away a tear. “I didn’t tell you to upset you. I told you because holding it back is too hard.” He leans in until our breaths mingle. “I want to tell you every day.”
Drew pauses and vulnerability tightens the corners of his eyes.
“And you need to know what this is for me, because I wasn’t clear before.” Deep gold eyes hold mine. He’s leaving himself wide open, revealing his soul. “You have my heart, Anna. And every time I had to walk away from you, every time you walked away from me, it felt like it was being ripped out of my chest. It fucking hurt, Anna.”
His confession mirrors my feelings so closely that a fresh wave of hot tears well in my eyes. “It hurt me too. So much. I felt so empty I couldn’t stand up straight.”
Drew’s dark brows furrow. “Why didn’t you—”
“I was afraid. Shit.” I take an unsteady breath, feeling sick. “You shine so brightly, Drew. And it’s beautiful to me, but I didn’t know how to live under your light.”
He frowns, his expression growing fierce. But his words are low, strong. “What people see? That is only gloss. But, Anna, you light me up. Drew. Not the player. You didn’t know how to live under my light? I don’t have a light anymore unless you’re there.”
“Drew.” With a trembling hand, I stroke his neck then rest my palm in the center of his chest. “I’m not...”
I squeeze my eyes shut. I don’t want to admit my weaknesses out loud. But this is Drew, and I trust him. More importantly, he deserves to know. I open my eyes and face him.
And he’s watching me, uncertain now, likely hurting again, because of me and my fucking issues.
“I never went to prom,” I blurt out. “I was never asked on a date, guys never even looked at me in high school.”
His expression shifts from shock to confusion to an understanding that makes my insides pitch. My fingers curl against the dense rise of his pecs as I forge on.
“No one really liked me. I was the weird girl. The sullen one they wanted to pretend didn’t exist.” I snort, an ugly, pained sound. “Or maybe they really didn’t know I existed.”
I shrug, not wanting to meet his eyes, but I do. “Mom called me a late bloomer. Which means dick-all when you’re sixteen and dying inside.”
Viciously, I wipe at my eyes. “And you...” My voice cracks before I can bring it under control. “When I say you shine, I mean just that. You’re the sun around which people orbit. If you had been in my school, you’d have been the one everyone looked toward to lead. You never would have seen me hiding in the shadows.”
“Anna...” His voice is so gentle it sets my teeth on edge.
“No. Just...let me finish.”
He gives an awkward nod.
“I know it wasn’t fair to treat you the way I did,” I say. “Or to put you in some category that I created due to bad experience and old teen angst. But it’s hard, Drew.”
My mouth trembles, I bite down on my lip. “It’s hard nullifying all of that, because it came back every time you paid attention to me in public and people stared. When they’d ask why you’re with me.”
“I don’t give a shit what people think,” he cuts in on a rasp. “Only what you think.”
My chin drops. I can’t look at him anymore. “Don’t you understand? I felt like an impostor. I kept waiting for you to realize that you’d got it wrong. That I was the girl you were never supposed to see.”
“Not possible,” he says with quiet fierceness.
“But—”
“Anna, baby, you would never be the girl I didn’t see, whether we had met now or in high school.” He pulls me in close, rubbing his nose along the tip of mine. “Don’t you understand? I know you wouldn’t be because, since the moment I laid eyes on you, you’re all I can see.”
Drew kisses me, lingering before he pulls back to study me. His eyes are clear and filled with so much emotion that my throat closes up.
As if he too is overcome, he swallows hard. “I love you, Anna Jones. That’s not going to change. I loved you when I thought we’d never be together, and I love you still.”
I let go of a sharp breath and then lean into him. I don’t kiss his lips but the tender spot on his neck where his pulse beats. “I should have told you earlier.”
His throat moves under my lips as he swallows. “Yeah.” His lips brush my temple, his warm, rough palms smoothing down my thighs. “But I understand now.”
“I’m so sorry, Drew.” I place a tender kiss on the center of his chest.
His voice is thick. “Don’t need that.”
No, he needs the words, at the very least to know that I care for him too. I owe him so much more. Sitting back on his lap, I meet his eyes. Emotion clogs my throat, makes my heart speed up to a desperate thud, thud, thud.
He appears almost stern, his mouth relaxed but not smiling. God, he’s everything. Everything.
I touch his cheek, grazing the beard-roughened skin there with my fingertips. My mouth opens yet nothing comes out. With a garbled sound, I throw myself on him, hugging him hard and burrow my face into the smooth crook of his neck. He’s warm, his scent familiar and comforting in a bone-deep way that has me crying harder.
And though I’ve clearly shocked him, he wraps his arms around me and holds on tightly.
“Hey,” he says softly. “Anna...”
“I’m sorry.” I gulp down air, trying to calm. “I’m sorry.”
But I can’t stop shaking. His arms are steel supports against my back, his chest a solid slab that bolsters me. I snuggle in deeper. “I was so scared,” I whisper against his damp skin. “I saw you...the hit. I needed to get to you, and...”
I can’t say the rest.
Beneath me, his body relaxes a little and his big hand cups the back of my head before stroking it. “Shhh. It’s okay.”
But it isn’t. How can I explain to him? If he hadn’t gotten up from that hit, something vital inside me would have died. The truth chokes me, burns my throat.
“It’s okay, Anna. I’ve got you.” His smooth, deep voice rolls over my skin like a caress. “I won’t let you go.”
He won’t. He never truly has.
I press my forehead to his. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“What wasn’t, baby?”
I run my shaking fingers along his jaw. “Finding you now. Before I got all of my shit together.”
“But it did,” he whispers. “And I’m not sorry.”
Neither am I.
I look at him. Really look, my eyes wide open, letting him see all of me. Every hidden vulnerability. In return, I see the world in his. A tremor runs through me, and I cup his cheek.
“I love you, Drew Baylor. No one has ever meant as much to me as you have. I adore you, need you, crave you—”
His lips meet mine, his kiss deep and demanding.
I sink into it, clutching his neck and shoulders like a lifeline. And there is no more talking, just long searching kisses, and short, frantic ones. Places to touch and rediscover. Emotion and need surge in like the tide. The sheet covering his lap is tugged away, and his hot cock presses against my sex, slipping against the wetness there.
“Put me inside you,” he breathes into my mouth, his lips nipping at mine. “I need to be inside you.”
I rock against him, making him groan. I lift up and the thick, rounded crown of him presses against my opening. Our gazes lock. We both shudder as I sink down onto him. It feels so damn good, like everything I’ve missed and like nothing before. It’s better. Truer.
The muscles along his chest strain as he pushes in further and a flush works over his cheeks. “God,” he rasps, “I’ve missed being surrounded by you. So perfect. This is what I needed. You. Here.”
“I know. I needed this too.” I cup his cheeks with my hands. “I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you so much.”
His eyes squeeze shut at the words, his throat working. His hands ease up to hold me as I hold him. And he thrusts up, meeting me halfway. Our foreheads touch, our breath mingling hot and uneven.
I ride him slowly, working my hips in an undulating rhythm that has us both trembling. My sex feels swollen, full of him. The pace is torture. I’m acutely aware of every inch of his thick girth moving in and out of me.
My skin steams, and I wrench the jersey off, the cool air tightening my nipples. Drew captures one in his mouth, sucking it with sharp tugs that I feel down to my core. My breath catches, and my insides clench. A move I know he feels when he groans and answers with a sharper thrust. His big hand clamps down on my butt, clenching and kneading it as if he’s making up for lost opportunities.
God, he’s so delicious looking, all sweaty and flushed, his muscles moving as his body rocks into mine. I lean down, lick along the strong column of his throat. His scent surrounds me, a comfort and an aphrodisiac. I love the way he smells, feels.
Both hands cup my butt now. His finger brushes against the entrance to my ass, and I hiss. Sensation, dark and forbidden, skitters through me at the touch.
Our eyes meet. Because Drew is paying attention to my every move, and because I am watching him, I see the understanding and the heated knowledge dawn in his eyes.
Slowly, deliberately, he strokes the spot again, an exploration that circles the area. And again, my insides tighten. It feels illicit, this touch, and despite my pounding heart, or maybe because of it, I push back against his finger. Just enough. His throat works on a swallow, his skin prickling. Within me, his cock swells.
Holding my gaze, and moving slow enough for me to stop him, Drew reaches over to the bedside table. I don’t look at what he’s doing. Part of me knows, and I go both hot and cold. Anticipation has my heart leaping within my chest and my throat going dry. We’ve both gone so still and tense, I feel his cock pulsing inside of me. Our mingled pants sound overloud in the silence. And then I see the gleam of his fingers now coated in olive oil.
The first touch is a slow, insistent push. I swallow hard, my clit throbbing and my entire lower half clenching. God.
The thick tip of his finger breeches the tight ring of my ass. I moan, my head falling forward. Oh God. What we’re doing is something new for me. Something I never trusted anyone to do. It’s personal, naughty, decadent. I want more.
Watching me with dark eyes, he sinks in further. My lids flutter, pleasure and a feeling of fullness overwhelming me. I’m so hot, so turned on, I can barely breathe. My chest is heaving now, my thighs shaking.
He shakes too, his heavily-lidded gaze never leaving mine, and I know he’s never done anything like this either. He pants like he’s run miles, sweat making his golden skin glisten.
With every thrust of his cock, his finger slides away, then pushes back in as his cock retreats. In and out, a slow, inexorable rhythm of dual attack that gets me hotter. I’m so weak, I can only lie prone against his chest and take it as I shiver and sweat.
Our lips brush, our breath shared. I kiss him, trusting my tongue in his mouth, fucking it just as he fucks me. Drew groans. His hips slam into mine, harder, aggressive.
Another finger plunges into me, and I whimper. The invasion aches, a sore heaviness that I both want to escape and push into further. I feel it everywhere, running up against my skin, licking down the valley of my spine. I’m going to melt right here, dissolve and sink into his flesh.
His next thrust wracks my body. My breasts slide over his slick chest. He wiggles his fingers. And I lose all sense of myself as I begin to come on a long, keening wail. I arch back, my hands braced on his shoulders.
But he doesn’t stop tormenting me. He pushes deeper. The orgasm ratchets higher with each hitch of my breath. Frantically, I rock my hips, needing the friction. “Oh, shi—Oh, shi—”
I bow over Drew, my face burrowing into his neck, my entire body going so tight it shakes. Weakly, I grasp his shoulders as my hips grind against his. I need release. I’m still coming, pleasure tearing through me.
“Drew.” It’s a helpless plea. “Drew...”
On a deep groan, he turns his head, grabs the back of my neck. His kiss is frenzied, messy as he thrusts into me, hard and wild. The orgasm breaks over me like cold fire. I whimper into his mouth. He swallows it down, his breath coming out in fierce exhalations through his nostrils. His entire body shakes, his grip in my hair going tight as he bucks against me. He comes with a bellow that vibrates his frame.
For a long moment, we lie boneless and sweat-slicked. My body rises and falls with his chest as his breathing slows down. Then he holds me against him, one arm wrapped around my shoulders, the other about my hips, and peppers my face with tender kisses.
“Baby. You okay? That was...” A luscious shiver goes through him.
“Yeah,” I rasp. “It so was.”
Smiling, I play with the ends of his hair and weakly kiss him back. Finally. Finally, everything feels right.
Drew presses my hand against his sweaty chest where his heart still beats a fierce rhythm.
His voice is whisper-quiet but crystal clear. “My world lives in your palm, Anna.”
And I’ll fill it with all the love I have. We fall asleep that way, him still deep inside me, our bodies so entwined that we’ve become one.