Page 172 of Ex Somnis

“That was the best sex I’ve ever had in my life, Lennon.”

Her body tenses, and I know she’s doing that thing where she’s trying to decide whether I’m exaggerating.

I’m not.

The sex was extraordinary.

And I already know waking up beside her tomorrow morning will be the same.

“I love you. And you’re everything I’ve ever dreamed of.”

She makes a small, pleased sound and presses a kiss to my collarbone. “I love you too,” she murmurs sleepily, tracing her finger over my chest. “And I think you’re very handsome.”

I huff a laugh. “Darling.”

“No, I’m serious. You tell me all the time that I’m beautiful, but just so you know, so are you.”

She traces a fingertip along my collarbone. “You get these little marks from your glasses when you wear them too long, your hair does this thing when you’re stressed where it sticks up in the back, you always smell like coffee, and God, your eyes are so pretty. The first thing I thought when we met was how handsome you are. ”

I chuckle softly, reaching up to grab her wrist. “You thought I was a gay serial killer.”

She kisses my jaw. “But a very handsome one.”

The ridiculous thing is how much hearing that affects me.

I glance at the alarm clock on the nightstand.

Then at her.

Then, I check the time again.

Waking life.

Still waking life.

Thank God.

I gather her close to me and close my eyes, basking in this moment that’s only for us.

With her in my bed, in my arms, I feel like I’ve finally made it home.

“Thank you,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to her head.

For the first time in years, sleep doesn’t feel like something I’m bracing for.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Jasper

The pickle doesn’t have ears, but it’s listening anyway.

I can tell because it’s leaning toward me as I pull a card for it, the same way people do when they’re anticipating life-changing news or exceptionally juicy gossip.

Unfortunately, I pull the Five of Cups, which is not ideal.

Not because bad cards exist. They don’t. But because the Five of Cups is grief, regret, emotional avoidance, and generally the card that starts sentences with “we need to talk.”

I really don’t have the emotional bandwidth to deliver difficult news to a pickle today.