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“I would rather walk home barefoot than sleep next to you again. Four years of college was more than enough. It’s a miracle we’re still friends.”

Charlie clutched his chest like I’d mortally wounded him. “I was a fantastic roommate.”

“You snore like a malfunctioning snorkel,” I added.

Rose snorted. Blythe giggled. I pointed at them. “There’s my validation.”

Blythe grinned. “The nursery has an air mattress. And there’s always the couch.”

Before another word could be said, a soft snore slipped from Rose’s mouth.

Blythe smirked at me. “The air mattress is for you, Wells.”

I hesitated. “I can wake her up, get her to—”

Blythe cut me off with a knowing look. “I wouldn’t. She gets mean.” She tossed me another blanket, amusement written all over her face. “Also, she doesn’t share blankets.”

“I’m not sleeping in there with her.”

Blythe’s smirk deepened. “Sure you aren’t.”

Charlie bumped her shoulder. “Man’s got it bad.” Then he turned to me with a lazy salute. “Good night, Wells.”

“Night, guys. Thanks for letting us crash.”

As they disappeared upstairs, I looked from the stairs back to Rose. She was out cold, limbs tangled up in the couch cushions.

I sighed. Without thinking twice, I scooped her up. She barely stirred—just a sleepy little murmur before she instinctively curled into my chest, her fingers briefly gripping my shirt.

Damn.

Pushing the nursery door open with my hip, I carried her inside and set her down gently on the air mattress, pulling a blanket over her.

“You should stay,” she mumbled.

“I’m fine on the couch.”

One of her eyes cracked open. “Just stay. It’s fine.”

The mattress definitely looked better than the couch and arguing with a half-asleep Rose didn’t seem like the best plan.

I debated for half a second before laying down, rolling onto my side to face away from her.

Tonight had been… something.

Rose let out another soft snore, and I huffed out a quiet laugh. She was completely dead to the world.

A few minutes passed, nothing but the rustling of blankets and the soft rhythm of her breathing. Just as I started drifting off, she shifted.

Not much. Just enough.

Her back barely brushed against mine.

I went completely still, my body locked up like I’d been caught doing something I shouldn’t. The warmth of her was enough to send every nerve in my body into overdrive.

I held my breath. I should move. Put space between us. Do literally anything other than lay here, feeling things I wasn’t supposed to feel.

“This was fun,” she mumbled sleepily.