“You can take them off,” I say, embarrassed. “You have on boxers, right?”
He nods. As I head off to brush my teeth, I tell myself it’s no different from shorts and a T-shirt and I’m wearing enough clothes for both of us. I putter, taking more time than usual. When I get back, he’s already in bed. He’s left the cushions behind him, pressed up against the back of the daybed to leave me more room. It’s a good idea and if I sleep on my side, too, we should manage. I flick off the light, then walk toward him, wondering if he’s as nervous as I am. What if I snore or drool? We don’t know each other well enough to get past that. Do we? In some ways, it feels like I’ve known him forever, as if I’ve waited for him twice that long.
Crazily, it feels like this is exactly where we’re supposed to be.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Lying in Shane’s arms is the best thing in the world.
I mean, it takes us a while to work out the perfect position—and there’s some awkward squirming—but once I settle against his chest, I feel like a bomb could go off and I’d still be safe. I’m not used to that feeling. The last time I had it, I was with my dad. When I was little, he’d always take me to see the Fourth of July parade and he’d toss me up onto his shoulders, so I could see better and I never once thought he’d let me fall. Snuggled up against Shane, that’s exactly how I feel right now. Well, the security part, not the dad part. Not even close.
“Can I ask you something?”
He stirs against me, moving his hand over my back. “I think you just did.”
“What was it like with your mom?” Maybe the question is too personal, but I want to understand him, and this seems like the obvious place to start.
“There were good days and bad days. When she was in remission, I could pretend everything was fine. She did more then. Worked on her songs.”
“She was a musician, too?”
“Yeah. She’s the one who taught me to play the guitar. I can’t remember a time when she wasn’t singing … except at the very end.”
“Alto or soprano?”
“Alto. When I was a kid, I thought all moms made up songs about broccoli.”
“She sounds like she was wonderful.”
Shane nods; I feel the movement against my head. That’s how close we are. Maybe it’s easier for him to talk about her because it’s dark and he can’t see my face. “It’s been nine months, but sometimes I forget. Like, I wake up in a panic because I can’t remember if she’s had all her meds.”
“I have bad dreams, too.” Hopefully he won’t ask about them. I also hope he doesn’t think I’m saying that for attention. I just want him to know that he’s not alone.
“Not tonight,” he promises. “Not when we’re together.”
“You either.”
“I feel okay,” he says.
That’s enough to make me smile. “Night,” I whisper.
I expect to have trouble sleeping, but the next thing I know, it’s morning with light shining through my window and birds making a racket outside. (Did I ever mention that I hate birds?) Shane looks cute, even at this hour. He’s grown faint scruff on his jaw and his lashes are tangled, giving glimpses of his blue eyes like glimmers of sky through a canopy of leaves. He’s smiling, I think, as I roll out of bed. I’m a little stiff from staying in the same position all night, but nothing serious.
I’m weirdly nervous and excited at the same time. I’ve never slept with anyone before, not even girls at sleepovers because life with my mom didn’t permit anything like that … and I didn’t have any close girlfriends before this year. Besides, I don’t think Lila would want to spoon in my bed even if she did stay over. I picture her camping out on the floor instead.