by Rae Kennedy
“Okay,” he says quietly with a small nod.
I follow him down to the end of the hallway and into his room.
Tuck’s ensuite bathroom is so tiny we have to turn sideways and shuffle past one another as I exit and he enters to ready for bed.
As he’s brushing his teeth, I scour my gym bag for anything I can wear to sleep in, but my workout clothes are not clean and wouldn’t be comfortable, anyway.
Tuck comes out of the bathroom, his shirt already discarded as I’m rummaging through my bag. He opens a drawer in his dresser.
“Here.” He tosses me over a heather gray T-shirt.
I unfold it. In big black lettering, it says Notre Dame Athletic Department.
“Thanks,” I say, and go into the bathroom to change. As I pass him, Tuck starts undoing his belt and the sound of the leather makes my pulse quicken.
Since I don’t have any shorts to wear, I am thankful the shirt is large and almost comes down to my knees. But even though I am completely covered, I’m only wearing panties under the shirt and I feel a little exposed.
When I come back out, a single bedside lamp is on, illuminating Tuck as he turns down the covers in dim, warm light. His back is turned to me, broad and smooth, with muscles that draw my eye down to the curve of his butt—clad only in black boxers.
“Is that all you’re wearing to bed?”
He cocks his head toward me. “I usually sleep naked, so you should be thanking me.”
I roll my eyes. “Thank you for your sacrifice.”
“Do what I can.” He shrugs.
We climb under the covers. The sheets are soft and cool, his fluffy duvet is heavy as it settles around my body. Tuck reaches up and turns the light off.
“Goodnight.”
“Night, Tuck.”
In the dark, I am keenly aware of the warmth radiating from his side of the bed as well as every shift and movement of his large body. I turn over and fluff the pillow, thinking about how little sleep I’ll probably get tonight and how many things I hope to get done tomorrow after our run.
Soon, Tuck is completely still. His breathing slows.
There are soft inhales followed by long exhales. Gradually the exhales get louder, almost a hum. Yes, humming describes it. Then a tiny whistle as he intakes air.
I listen to the rhythm of Tuck’s sleep. A whistle. Then a deep, rumbling hum. A whistle. A hum. It’s nice to focus on the sound instead of my inexorable thoughts. There’s a low howling wind outside.
* * *
My eyes flutter open and I glance toward the clock. I don’t even recall shutting my eyes, but I must have fallen asleep quickly.
There’s no clock.
What the...?
There is a quiet whistle and low hum.
Tuck.
Oh yeah. I’m in Tuck’s bed.
The warmth and weight of his body sleeping next to me is unmistakable. We’ve drifted closer as we slept and then I notice his feet are pressed against mine. Or maybe it’s my feet that are pressed against his?
His steady snores overtake my thoughts. The hum. The whistle. I can sense the rise and fall of his chest as he sleeps.
I am lulled back to darkness quickly.
* * *
The room is bright through my eyelashes. The pillow is soft, and I am warm, the large comforter tucked under my chin.
Wait—
I sit up instantly.
Tuck walks in the room casually, steam wafting out of the large rainbow mug in his hand. He’s awake before me? It shouldn’t be light yet.
“What time is it?”
“Almost nine,” he answers, sipping from his cup.
“What?” I never sleep this late. Oh no—I check my phone and, yep. It’s 8:54 and I have a missed call from my dad.
I listen to his voice message. He doesn’t sound upset but says he hopes I am getting extra sleep as it is a Saturday and will talk to me later.
I put down the phone, still looking incredulously at the sunlight shining in from the large windows. I feel...clear. Awake. Calm.
“You still want to go on a run?” Tuck asks. He’s wearing athletic shorts and a T-shirt.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” I would have gotten up.
“You looked peaceful and...like you needed the rest.”
That’s probably the truth. I can’t decide if I’m grateful or annoyed.
“I have a study group in an hour and then some lunch plans, and I need to work on a paper. I better just get going.”
“Okay.”
He looks disappointed but, what can I say? I’m a busy girl.
“Will you be over for dinner tonight?”
“Sorry. I’m going to the football game with Nick and a few friends. But I can definitely come over tomorrow.”
* * *
After the football game I crawl into bed. It’s after midnight. I almost finished my paper earlier, which isn’t due until Wednesday, so I feel fairly triumphant. But the day has been long and I am exhausted.
I wake at three and my sleep is fitful until I finally relent and get up at five. Just before my dad’s call.
It makes me wonder if my full night’s rest at Tuck’s was an anomaly, or something...else.
Was it just a coincidence the only night I’ve slept more than five hours was in Tuck’s bed? Probably. But...
When I go over to Tuck and Haley’s house for dinner on Sunday, I’m still curious. Was it a fluke?
Haley excuses herself shortly after we finish rinsing the dishes, citing the extra workload before finals week. There’s work I could be doing at home, too, but I don’t leave.
Tuck and I chat in the living room for a while. He makes me some tea and I draw out the conversation. It’s not hard. I like talking with Tuck. It’s getting later and my palms are cold as I think about what I’m doing. I’m staying late on purpose. I want to spend the night again.
Tuck won’t care. Right?
I’m sure he’d be fine with it. But I don’t know how to bring it up. Should I just ask? Would that give him the wrong idea?
Of course it would.
Shit.
I glance at my phone. It’s only ten. Is that late enough to play the ‘I should just sleep over’ card?
I yawn.
He smiles. “Tired?”
“Yeah. You ready for bed?” I ask. Maybe if I play nonchalant, he won’t overthink it.
“Guess I should start heading that way.”
I stand up and start down the hall. “Let’s go, then.”
Heat rises from my neck to my ears as I walk toward Tuck’s room. It felt too weird to ask to stay over so I hope this strategy works—acting like it isn’t a big deal, to spend the night in his bed.
He follows me down the hall without a question and we get ready for bed much as we did on Friday. He isn’t thrown off at my staying, doesn’t gloat when I wear his shirt to bed, nor does he seem particularly affected as we slide under the covers together.
His bed is as warm and encompassing as the last time. He wishes me sweet dreams and then turns over, throwing his arm over his face. And within minutes he is still. The rhythm of his breathing mixed with soft snores is hypnotic.
I wake to Tuck’s quiet voice.
“Hey, it’s almost six. Do you want to get up and run or should I let you sleep more?”
His hand is on my shoulder and I’m still foggy.
Then I register his words.
It’s almost six?
I slept through my dad’s wake-up call, again?
I glance at my phone to confirm.
I slept. All night.
And I feel great.
Tuck and I go on our run and I am even more rejuvenated when I get back to my apartment to get ready for classes.
The sun is out today as I walk through campus, though it is still cold. Even by the end of the day, my energy is up, enough to kill a game of volleyball at the Rec with Caleb and a few friends.
I change out of my spandex and sho
wer at the gym after the game. But I don’t want to go home.
Me: Can I come over?
Tuck: Sure
I don’t know if he knows what I’m asking for, exactly. But he lets me into his bed again.
And the next night.
In Tuck’s bed, next to him, I sleep like a baby.
For the first time in months, I start setting an alarm.
CHAPTER 7
I hadn’t realized how much my lack of sleep this semester had been affecting my overall energy and mood but sleeping at Tuck’s every day this week has been amazing.
Saturday morning I awake to the steady buzz of my alarm. Tuck is sprawled next to me, his arm bent over his head, chest bare, breathing softly. Our legs have found their way together again, mingling through the night. I retrieve my phone from under my pillow just before my dad’s call at five.
Even though our conversation is brief, Tuck stirs at the sound of my voice. He’s on his side, head propped on his hand as he smiles sleepily at me when I hang up the phone.
“Do you have plans tonight?” he asks, his voice still hoarse from sleep.
“Just studying. Plus, working on a paper. And a presentation.”
“You’ll need a break to eat, right? Do you want to go out?”
“Go out?” My heart starts beating fast.
“Yeah. Out to eat.”
Okay, he doesn’t mean anything other than eating a meal together. We’ve done that a bunch before. Stop reading into things, Court.
“Like a real date,” he adds, still being casual.
“A date?” Apparently, I can’t form an original sentence right now.
Tuck nods. “You know, when two people go out to get to know each other better. There’s usually food involved. And...they determine if they’d like to maybe have a romantic relationship.”
Romantic relationship? Wow. Didn’t we just admit to each other last week that we might still be in love with our exes?
I take a sharp breath. “Tuck.” I’m not sure how to respond right now. “Under different circumstances, I’d love to go on a date with you.” I can barely make out the indent in his left cheek at the corner of lips. “But I really don’t want anything romantic right now. You’re my friend, and Haley’s my friend, and I don’t want that to change. Can we just keep it at that?”
I really like being his friend.
I hold my breath for a long beat.
“Yeah, okay. Sure.” Tuck gives me a clipped smile and gets out of bed.
Our run is silent.
I guess it’s usually silent, but it seems quieter today.
I’m busy all day and into the evening in preparation for finals this week, and since we don’t run Sunday mornings, it would be odd to go over to Tuck and Haley’s tonight. Right? Especially without a specific invitation.
So, I stay home. My bed has never felt so uncomfortable.
* * *
Sunday afternoon I finish my last paper and study for my first test of the week, which will be tomorrow morning.
I haven’t heard from Tuck at all. I didn’t want to hurt him. Maybe I should have agreed to the date? No. He’s still hung up on his ex. Even if he wasn’t, I can’t start a relationship right now, not when I’ll be moving away after graduation. Sure, that’s five months away, but I don’t want to throw away a friendship with him—or Haley—on something that would just be a few months of fun. Maybe if I didn’t see myself having a genuine friendship with him, I could risk it.
Just the thought of him being upset with me has my stomach in knots.
Me: Hey, we still on for a run tomorrow?
He doesn’t respond right away.
I’ve probably checked my phone three times now.
Finally, it buzzes.
Tuck: Of course. Meet at your place?
Me: Sounds great
Guess that means I’m not spending the night at his place.
He acts normal when he greets me wearing his man-tights and a big smile. He seems lighthearted and not at all upset or awkward around me. But it still feels different. Maybe I’m being the awkward one.
We do a short run—I want to make sure I have plenty of time to get ready before my first final today. We stretch together afterward and then he leaves with a “see you later” and an elbow bump. Definitely friendly. Which is what you wanted, remember?
He doesn’t mention anything about coming over to his place tonight. I could just show up. He’s never objected to me inviting myself over before. But that was also before he asked me out. Shit. It’s already weird and this is exactly what I was trying to avoid.
Haley and I meet for lunch on campus between finals. I’m happy when she finally agrees to go to my party Friday night. She also asks why I hadn’t been over for dinner this past weekend and I don’t know what to say other than being busy with finals—which is true, but... Should I tell her Tuck asked me out?
I don’t mention it.
The next couple days, Tuck is at my door promptly at six for our run and then I go to school and knock out more tests. In the evenings, I study and prepare for my final presentation on Thursday afternoon. That’s the one I’m most nervous about.
Nick and Caleb talk me into taking a break to eat dinner with them but then I go back to my hermit-ing. I’ll be so glad when my last test is over on Friday and I can relax and let loose at our party and be social again.
I have been sleeping in my own bed and, unsurprisingly, it’s been horrible.
After our run Wednesday morning, we are sitting on the floor in front of my couch and stretching. Gilbert is currently trying to climb up Tuck’s back.
“So how are finals going?” Tuck asks offhandedly, finally picking Gil up and cradling him against his chest. The kitten starts purring immediately.
“Good so far. I have a big presentation to give tomorrow—that one I’m a bit stressed about.”
He nods, studying my face as he pets Gilbert’s little head. “I’m sure you’ll kill it,” he says.
I let out a sigh. “I don’t know about kill, but I can handle it. Just wish I wasn’t so exhausted. I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep since—”
I stop abruptly, realizing what I was about to admit.
“Since?” He looks at me quizzically.
“Never mind.” Please drop it. He can tell I’m a little flustered over the subject.
“Now you have me curious.”
“Fine. I haven’t slept much since last Friday. With you.”
He tilts his head, a smile creeping onto his lips. “Really?”
I let out a breath. “Yes, actually I haven’t been sleeping well all semester. My first uninterrupted night’s sleep was at your place. I don’t know if it’s your mattress, or the sound of you snoring—”
“Wait. I don’t snore.”
“You totally do.”
“But in a cute way, right?”
“Sure,” I say, patting him on the knee.
“Then come sleep over tonight.”
There’s a fluttering in the pit of my stomach—not butterflies—just, fluttering. “Yeah?”
“Why not? I’ll probably be home pretty late, but you can come over whenever.”
* * *
I’ve locked myself in my room—which I never do—to work on my presentation all afternoon. I wander out around dinnertime to make a peanut butter sandwich. Classic rock beats through Nick’s door as I pass by and Caleb is out for the evening, having already finished his finals for the week.
After rehearsing my presentation aloud three times, I’m finally feeling good about it. Tired, but good.
I’m in the middle of run-through number four when my phone pings.
Tuck: Just got home. You still coming over?
Me: I’ll head over soon
It’s later than I had realized, already almost nine, and I have been looking forward to Tuck’s bed all day.
When I think about it like that, it doesn’t sound as innocent as it is.
Tuck a
nswers the door in his light gray sweats and no shirt. His hair is damp, and he smells like a forest.
Haley must already be in bed and I find myself trying to step softly on the hardwood floors as I pass her door.
I brought my usual sleepwear with me in my bag—a tank top with a built-in bra and a pair of white cotton shorts—but Tuck throws me his Notre Dame shirt and it smells like fresh laundry. It’s warm and soft like it just came out of the dryer. I wear it instead.
The sheets are extra smooth against my legs and smell clean as I lay my head on the pillow.
Tuck comes in from the bathroom and turns off the light before removing his sweatpants and lying next to me. He lets out a long, loud breath like he’d been holding it in for hours.
“It’s nice to relax a bit,” he says.
I prop myself up on my elbow. The light from the tall windows is deep blue and barely illuminating his profile—the slope of his nose and square chin.
“Rough day?” I ask.
“Rough week. Long hours.” He sounds even more tired than I feel.
“You like what you do, though, right?”
He turns toward me, the glisten of his eyes just visible in the dark.
“I like my job well enough. I’m good at it.” He’s silent for a few seconds. “I like being a lawyer, but the more I’m in it, the less I think the corporate world is for me.”
I nod but I’m not sure if he sees. “You’re still young—you have time to figure stuff out and change paths if that’s what you want.”
“Weren’t you calling me an old man the other day?”
“Hey!” I playfully smack him on the chest. “Take a compliment when you get it.”
His skin is warm under my hand, which I realize is still flat against his chest, the curve of his pec under my palm. I remove my hand quickly.
“Darlin,’ you can call me whatever you like.”
I lay back on my pillow, putting a few more inches between us. “Did Haley tell you about the party at my place on Friday? You should come.”
“Can’t. I’ve got a date Friday night.”
A date? My chest constricts. “Oh, okay.” It comes out quieter than I mean it to.
“But if the date ends early enough, I’ll stop by after.”
“Either way.”
I roll over and Tuck shifts his weight behind me. His breathing becomes languid, but it takes me longer than normal to fall asleep. When I do, it’s dreamless but I don’t wake until my alarm.
