“I stubbed my toe on the bedframe.”
Unable to help myself, I laughed. “Seriously?”
“I wouldn’t joke about that.”
“Right, of course.” Shaking my head, I walked closer. “I’m going to supervise until you’re safely tucked in.”
“You’re acting like I’m a danger to myself.”
“You probably are.”
“You probably are,” he mocked as he scooted backward. “Damnit. My pen is in my pocket.” He looked toward the bathroom, half pouting.
“You don’t need it.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do. You’re tipsy and your inhibitions are low.”
“It’s just my pen.”
“And you can ride out your alcohol without adding weed on top of it, thank you very much.”
With a huff, he twisted himself in odd ways until he managed to get under the covers. He wiggled, then let out a satisfied sound when he was settled.
“Well, you’re good to go,” I said.
“You can sleep here.”
I froze, instinctively looking toward the window to check if it was raining. I didn’t hear anything and the glass was dry.
“Oli?”
“Do you want me to?” I asked quietly.
He just shrugged, keeping his eyes closed.
I should’ve walked away. There was no reason for me to stay in here with him, especially not right now.
It was a bad idea, but I found myself moving to the other side of the bed. When I was lying on my side facing him, he rolled over. His dark eyes met mine, giving me too many reasons to stay.
“Why do you look freaked out?” he asked.
I drew in a slow breath. “Your inhibitions are low, remember?”
“What do you think I’m gonna do, grope you?” He snorted a laugh. “I’m not gay.”
“So you’ve said.”
“I didn’t know you were either.”
I remained completely still as he reached toward me. His fingers touched a piece of hair that had fallen over my eye, then he moved it away from my face. I could feel the heat from his skin as he slowly pulled back, and it made me want to grab his hand.
“I’m attracted to men,” I said, “but I’ve never had a real crush on one.”
“I’m not special then.” The corner of his mouth quirked upward, making my throat feel dry.
“Never said that.”