Chapter 5It was fifteen minutes after we’d finished dinner that I felt Matthew’s hand on my leg again. I let out a low, excited breath.
Yes! This is going to happen again.
I had known he was staying over another night—a casual ask had happened as we’d shared the meal before us, and a casual answer of sure, why not? had been the response—but there was still just enough vagueness that left me wondering what kind of staying would occur. Would Matthew still sleep on the couch again, and only because of his roommate? Would he sleep with us? Literally and figuratively? And if so, and we started to do this again and again, what would it all mean? I had too many questions, just like a grad student, as Tate might say. This was why Tate was good for me.
But now I could see, in no uncertain terms
