Resisting The Alpha Cowboy
That guest bed would remain untouched, pristine, unused—while Benny, the little cuddle monster, claimed the middle of mine like a prince.
I brought him snacks—apple slices, a juice box, some pretzels—and a bottle of water for myself. We settled in to watch a cartoon movie about a brave space dog and his shy robot friend. Benny was narrating every scene before it happened, explaining what was “about to go down” with the kind of intensity most people reserved for action thrillers.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out, expecting a text. It was a video call from Colton.
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