Spencer blinked into the darkness, disoriented for a moment by the ceiling fan turning lazily overhead. When did I get a ceiling fan? He had to stare at it for a couple seconds to remember why this wasn’t his bed, though the weight of the arm slung across his waist did a lot to drive that point home.
“You’re awake.” Mick’s sleepy voice drifted to him, drawing him closer without any further prompting. “I thought you wouldn’t budge until morning.”
He wasn’t sure if that was meant to be a regret that Spencer hadn’t lasted longer, or a request that he get out now that he wasn’t passed out. “I was thirsty,” he said, and realized it was actually true. That was a mild relief. He didn’t want to have to lie.
The weight around his body disappeared, the mattress dipping beneath him. “You want wate
