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Running my hand through my hair, I grab a spare comforter from my closet.
At my door, I pause when I hear footsteps coming from what sounds like Waylon’s room. My fingers flex around the knob.
A moment later, a door creaks open, and closes.
This time, I know that that was Shawn’s room.
I give it another couple seconds, straining my ears. When I hear the familiar strum of a guitar, I blow out a sigh of relief, and gently, quietly turn the knob.
Both doors are shut now.
With the blanket bundled in my arms, I pad toward the living room, ensuring to avoid the creaky floorboards I know are there.
In the living room, Jeremy is curled up on his side still, but now he’s facing the couch cushions, spine curved. His black Henley rucked up some, exposing a swath of pale skin just above the grey boxer band peeking out above his jeans.
Averting my gaze, I quickly round the coffee table, shake out the blanket, and throw it over him. He makes a small noise of protest, not quite a groan, but a telling noise all the same, and I mutter a curse.
“Shit, just-just wait.”
Rushing over to the attached kitchen, I grab the metal trash can and carry it over to where he rolls over on the couch.
“Here,” I say, popping the lid.
He sits up on his forearm, and screws his face up when he sees what I brought him.
“No,” he says petulantly, with a pathetic shove.
“Seriously?”
Scowling, he cuddles up with the pillow.
“Okayyyy,” I drag out, letting the lid fall shut. I set it to the side. “Suit yourself.”
He mumbles something, and I cock an amused brow.
“What was that?”
He wrinkles his nose, shaking his head. “M’fine.”
“Ah.” I slide from my knees to my ass, hooking an arm around my shin. “Well, that’s good.”
He smacks his lips and I grin.
“Stop.”
“Stop what?”
“Laughing at me.”
“Sorry,” I murmur, still smiling like an idiot.
It’s impossible not to.
Huffing, he flings a hand out, fingers glancing off my jaw.
Rearing back, I say, “Did you just try to slap me?”
“No…” He mumbles something that I’m pretty sure isn’t in English. And then he pushes up suddenly, resting all his weight on his forearms. His eyes crack open, revealing bleary slits. “Why are you here?” His words run together, slurring.
