Schuyler
“Hey," Calvin whispers, peeking his head in the bedroom.
I wave at him to shoo him out, and I tiptoe behind him, suddenly nervous about how the rest of this evening will play out.
“I've prepared my bed for you," he states, motioning me towards the back of the house.
“I can't kick you out of your bed," I argue.
“My couch is plenty big enough for me," he promises.
I walk into his room, finding the blankets pulled back and the bedside lamp on.
“Let me know if you need anything," he says, leaning against the door frame.
I climb onto the mattress, pulling the blankets over me. I don't want to be alone in his bed. I'm afraid his scent and my fantasies of him might keep me awake all night.
“Can you lay beside me for a little bit?" I ask, patting the other side of his king-sized
