18
Wick
I woke with Haven on top of me. Again.
The night before, we’d watched the rest of the game on my laptop together. Or rather, I watched it. Haven fell asleep, only to miss seeing her boyfriend—sorry, ex-boyfriend—throw two more interceptions.
We still won, though, thanks to the kicker, defense, and a running back who scored the only offensive touchdown. I nudged her and said her name to let her know the game was over, but she didn’t wake, so I just shut the laptop and then scooted down in order to lie next to her. And sometime throughout the night, she ended up on top of me.
This made two out of the four nights she’d lived here that she’d slept on me. We were beginning to make a habit of it. I hoped it became a regular occurrence.
Shit. Wait. No, I wasn’t supposed to want that
