Chapter 11Wheat slowly roused from an uncomfortable sleep. A low-level headache woke him periodically through the night, and this time he was hot and sweaty. Why was he sleeping on his back? He never slept on his back. He peeled open an eye, then blinked a few times, but the room was so dark he couldn’t see his hand in front of his face. Come to think of it, why couldn’t he move his left arm? He couldn’t have had a stroke; he was too young.
Suddenly he realized why he was so warm: someone was lying on that arm, snug against Wheat’s side because Wheat was keeping him there.
Oh, s**t, what had he done? He wasn’t used to waking up with anyone in his bed—not boyfriends or hookups or even his camel with the wrinkled knees when he’d been a little boy. This dude was holding onto him as if his l
