Letting Go
“If there’s a next time, I’ll be sure to keep a pair of shorts in my truck to sleep in. I wasn’t expecting you to ask me to stay, so I’m not prepared.”
“I’d be upset if you were prepared,” I tell him, before I climb into bed under the covers. He pulls his pants off, then slides into the bed in his underwear. I move closer so that we are touching but not in a position that could trigger a flashback to sharing a bed with Zander. “Good night, Bryson.”
“Good night, Sara. Sweet dreams, birthday girl,” he whispers before taking his glasses off and setting them on the side table.