As I lie in bed, I strain to hear any kind of movement through the wall. Some hint that Luna is getting ready for bed. That she didn’t leave the house as soon as I was out of sight.
Eventually, I catch the rush of water hitting tile. Her shower turning on. The relief is short-lived when I think about why she’s washing off so late at night.
Getting rid of my touch. The remnants of what we did earlier.
Fuck, just the memory of her is enough to get me hard. I glare down at the bulge in my shorts, wanting to remind my dick that we’re not going to get any attention for a long time.
I’m not sure what drove me to confess my true feelings. Just, after what we did today, moving backward seemed impossible. How could I go from my head in between her thighs back to pretending our entire relationship is fake?
My mind doesn’t work like that.
Pig shifts on her side of the bed, then lets out a big sleepy sigh.
At least the dog doesn’t hate me.
The shower shuts off, and images of Luna soaking wet fill my mind.
Damn it. This infatuation is going to get much worse.
She moaned my name.
And now she’s freaking out. Which I understand. I really do. This agreement we have is all in pursuit of setting her brother free. A selfless act. And no doubt Luna’s worried I’ll start demanding more from her now in order to continue the ruse.
The thought that I’d try to manipulate Luna has me wanting to gag.
That’s not how you treat people you care about.
Tomorrow, I’ll figure out how to tell her even though I’d like things to change, they don’t have to. That I’m here for her in whatever capacity she needs.
I just can’t tonight.
I’m about to roll over and try to force myself to sleep when my bedroom door opens, and I jerk to attention when Luna pokes her head in. With quick fingers I slide my glasses on, wanting to see her face rather than a blur of features. The expression she wears isn’t any more welcoming than before, but she doesn’t hiss at me to leave her home.
“I want my dog,” she says.
Of course. She’s here for Pig, not me. Silently, I say farewell to the pup’s innocent, comforting presence.
“Not holding her hostage.” I give the pit bull an encouraging push toward Luna. The dog stays relaxed, a dead weight in the middle of my mattress.
Luna steps farther into the room. “Pig. Come. Come here, Pig.”
The dog cracks an eyelid. But then she just snuggles her head deeper into my comforter.
“Pig. Come.” Luna’s voice has shifted from asking to demanding.
But Pig doesn’t seem to care.
“She can sleep here tonight,” I offer.
So can you, I almost add.
No doubt that second statement would receive the same scowl my first comment gets.
“Pig likes sleeping with me,” Luna declares.
And normally, she’s not wrong. But tonight, Pig seems hell-bent on staying in my bed, going full boneless when Luna tries tugging at her collar.
“Fine!” Luna gives up and stomps out of the room.
There’s no victory in this. Only more tension between us.
But then a moment later, Luna’s back, carrying a blanket. “I’m sleeping with my dog,” she announces.
As if I’ll fight her on the idea of us sharing a bed.
The mattress dips as she climbs onto the other side, attention focused on her pillow and blanket rather than me. Once Luna is prone, she tosses an arm around Pig, the big spoon to her dog’s little.
The sight causes an ache in my heart even after I place my glasses on the bedside table and shut off the lamp.
I crave for this pair to be my family. Luna, Charlie, and Pig.
Sounds perfect to me. I bet I could get Pig on my side as easily as she spills over into my space on the bed now.
All we need is our stubborn woman.
But I won’t force her.
I’m just about to bring that up despite what I said earlier. Only Luna speaks first.
“What did you mean when you said emotions are more manageable when the sun is out?”
The memory of when I first heard those words has me smiling.
I was maybe nine, and I walked in on my parents arguing. They weren’t yelling. My parents never yelled at each other. But their words were tense, and frowns marred both of their faces. Upon my arrival, my mom announced she needed some time. She pressed a kiss on the top of my head, then left the room.
I was terrified. I ran up to my father, grabbing his shirt on the verge of tears, begging to know if Mom was leaving us. The angry expression on his face disappeared instantly at that question, and he leaned down to scoop me into his arms, hugging me tight to his broad chest. I was approaching the age where I scorned getting snuggled like a baby, but that night I gripped him back just as tight.
And he told me no. That Mom was just going to bed. That sleep gives people time to sift through their emotions. That kind words come easier at the start of the day than at the end of it, and they would finish their talk in the morning when it would be easier to be kind to each other.
Then he sat me at the table and scooped us some generous portions of ice cream. The next morning, I came downstairs to find them kissing in the kitchen.
And I never forgot that lesson.
“Just something my dad likes to say. That it’s okay to go to bed angry. People shouldn’t argue when they’re tired or hungry because that just makes everything worse. And that sunshine puts people in a better mood. If you still want to yell at me tomorrow after breakfast…” I trail off, because I’d rather not give out permission to be screamed at.
“I don’t want to yell at you,” Luna says. “That’s what my parents do.”
“I don’t want to yell at you either.”
Luna snorts. “Can you yell, Charlie Keller?”
In the darkness, I grin up at the ceiling, hope alighting in my chest at her teasing tone.
“Oh, yeah. Definitely. I can scream like a banshee. Just put me in front of a good band and I’ll yell my head off.”
There’s a scoff from her side of the bed. “That’s fan girl screaming.”
“Excuse me, that’s fan person screaming, and I am accomplished at it.”
She emits a soft chuckle that warms my whole being. “People would hate us if we went to a concert together.”
“Why’s that?”
The bed jiggles as Luna shifts around, then there’s a doggy groan and Pig stretches her legs further into my space, not caring in the least that her paws are digging into my side.
Bed hog.
“Because I would take full advantage of you there.”
I almost swallow my tongue, but Luna keeps talking.
“When you’re only a few inches above five foot, trying to see the stage is a bitch. I’d insist you boost me onto your shoulders so I could get a better seat. Which would turn us into a giant two-person monster with you doing whatever obnoxious screaming you do. The ultimate concert menace.”
A weird laugh groan spills out of me at her description. I can imagine what a ridiculous sight we’d make. But fuck, I can also fantasize about exactly what it’d be like to have Luna’s strong thighs cradling my head.
Like earlier tonight.
We spend the next hour exchanging concert stories, our tales punctuated with yawns until eventually we both pass out.
And neither of us ends up going to bed mad.
But the next morning, my bed is empty of both dog and wife.