This.

This was why he wrote. He was a magician, creating life from nothing more than thoughts plucked from his restless mind. With each and every word typed in the document, those people—his characters—became more than just fractured ideas. They became real, flesh and blood, two lost souls in a desperate search for happiness despite the fears that bogged them down.

It was finally coming together and god, he fucking loved it.

If he could bottle up this feeling of elation, this bubbling bliss at the way emotion poured onto the page in stark black ink, he would be a millionaire for sure. Just uncork the bottle every time you felt that all-too-familiar crushing doubt of writer’s block, and voila! Insta-muse.

Thiessen leaned back in his seat to arch his back in a cat-like stretch, his spine popping. Blinking gritty eyes, he grabbed his water bottle off the desk and took a sip. Blech, warm. The ice had melted. How long had he been hunched over his keyboard, entangled in the minds of his characters? He rubbed at his face and pulled his phone off the charger.

Time for a break.

How’s it going? Is anyone kissing yet? ;)

He smiled at the text that Jory sent—almost two hours ago. Shit. His fingers quickly tapped out a reply. Good, apparently, since I didn’t even hear my phone go off. Sorry.

He stood and meandered out of the office in search of something cold to drink and a snack. Then he fully intended to sink into his overstuffed chair, put Netflix on mute, and text Jory until dinnertime.

The thought made his heart dance in his chest.

His crush was slowly spreading. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the man. Especially since Jory had opened up and told him about his boyfriend, his life claimed too soon by a terrible disease. Just like Bo, his mind whispered. Except the disease that had stolen his love away from him was one spawned of fear and hate.

Another text pinged in. No need to apologize. Just answer the question.

Question?

Anyone smooched yet? :) Haha.

Thiessen snickered to himself, seeing as the steamy scene he’d just written had been just that. Oh, pages ago. These characters have wasted no time sucking face. Makes for a fun book all around.

Yeah? When do I get to read it?

The idea of Jory reading Rescue Me—which was practically an ode to the man, a wet-dream fantasy of epic proportions—made his skin tingle. His heartbeat picked up speed, thump-thumping away at his chest. Never, he wanted to say, but his fingers were frozen in place.

It was one thing for random strangers to pick up his books off a shelf or buy them online, but the only person he’d ever let read his smut “in real life” was Peri. She’d read his rough drafts when he’d first started writing seriously, and if it wasn’t for her, he’d still be stuck in the middle of bumblefuck. After reading Save Me, she’d hounded him about publishing it and the other four books he’d stuck in a drawer to collect dust.

“These are great, Thee! Really, they’re more than great. Super hot and so sweet. I think you’re onto something here!” So he’d began querying agents, just to shut her up. It had changed his life for the better, but Thiessen still hid behind his pen name, wielding it like a sword. No one knew who T.L. Blackthorn really was, and that’s exactly how he intended to keep it.

If word got out around town that Thiessen wrote gay erotic romance, he would never be able to show his face again. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he replied: Maybe someday. I don’t let anyone read my first drafts. Sorry to disappoint. Guess you’ll just have to wait for it to come out in hardcover, huh?

I’ll look forward to that day then. Jory’s incoming text was followed quickly by a second. Now for the burning question: Why romance?

Thiessen made a face. He knew he probably didn’t seem particularly romantic, but he definitely had a soft spot for happily ever afters. He was fairly certain he’d never get one of his own, but at least he could live vicariously through his characters.

Why not romance? I mean, sex sells, right? It’s a hungry market. Middle-aged soccer moms need something to whet their appetite after the Fifty Shades craze, so why not help fill that void?

You sell pretty well, then?

Pushy. Do you really need to ask that question?

Nah ;) Your house is glorious. I’m actually a little bit jealous.

Don’t be. It’s just a house. I don’t really need all this room, honestly. I’m just one person, but Peri insisted and you know how she gets.

Yeah, hah. I can only imagine. It’s gotta feel nice, though.

Thiessen pondered a reply for a moment while gazing up at the vaulted ceilings and the Victorian-style chandelier that hung suspended by an ornate white chain. It was nice. He’d wanted something drastic and he definitely nailed it.

It does, especially after growing up trailer trash. How much did he actually want to admit? This was the first time he’d ever considered opening up about his past, but there was something at the deepest part of him that desperately ached to let Jory peek inside.

I didn’t have much growing up. Super evangelical parents, they believed Christ was all we really needed. I’m not even kidding. We lived on food bank meals, because my father gave every last dime to the damn church.

Holy shit. For real?

For real. You can imagine what happened when I came out. Nuclear fallout. He closed his eyes and dragged in a breath, then shoved all those dark thoughts to the side. I’m in a much better place now, thanks to Peri and her uncle. Sundog Park’s my home now. I meant what I said before. I’ll never go back.

And your parents? Sorry, that’s nosy as hell.

They can burn in a trash fire. It was as simple as that.

Wow. Can’t say that I blame you.

What about you? You’re out, obviously. Time to turn the conversation around. Hopefully Jory’s life wasn’t a sob story like his, though from the man’s happy demeanor, he doubted it. Now I’m the nosy one.

Hah, I don’t mind at all. I guess I don’t care what anyone thinks. I never really “came out” so to speak, not officially. Vet school took up almost eight years of my life. I played the field while I was there. I’d always assumed I was straight, but after a drunken kiss at a frat party, I found myself attracted to guys, so I decided to experiment. Fell in love with Seth and that was the end of it, but I’m not gay exactly. Sexuality is fluid and so am I. I fall in love with heart and soul, not what’s in your pants.

There was only a moment’s pause before another text came in. I won’t lie, I’m interested in what’s in your pants, too. ;)

Thiessen almost choked on his water. Coughing, he quickly capped the bottle and stuck it between him and the cushions. Christ. He had to go there, didn’t he? He squirmed back against the seat and tapped out a reply. Good to know lol.

Can’t blame a guy for trying hah.

And what, pray tell, would you do if you got in my pants? Fuck, he actually just sent that.

Oh, you really wanna go there? What happened to being friends.

We’re friends. Consider it…research for my book.

:) Right. Research. I like the sound of that.

Thiessen scowled down at the phone. Shut up. He jabbed the send button, but his anxiety began to do jumping jacks. Clenching his hands into fists, he held his breath, impatiently waiting for the next text.

Jory didn’t disappoint. He never did. Well, for starters, I’d sort of slide into your space and listen to the way your breath might catch when I got up close. Thiessen’s breath did catch at that. I’d cup your face in my hands and I’d gaze into your eyes, because eyes are the windows of the soul and yours are so deep and beautiful. And then I would kiss you, because your lips have been driving me crazy for weeks now. It would be something sweet, though. Sweet and tender, cuz I wouldn’t wanna rush through it. No—I wanna bask in the taste of you. I wanna explore your mouth and suck on your tongue and take my time, touching every last inch of your skin until you’re melting in my grasp.

Fuck. He inhaled sharply and stared at the text, his eyes lingering on the words. This was seriously happening—but he’d opened the door. He’d flung it wide open and Jory had waltzed through without a care in the world. You want to kiss me? He could hear the blood rushing in his skull now, making him sweat.

Do you really think you need to ask that? Came the reply. It keeps me up at night, those lips. So pouty and full, and the way you nibble on it when you get anxious… I can’t help wondering what you taste like. There was a long pause. I really need to shut up. This isn’t friend territory and I’m sorry. I’ll behave, I promise.

His head spun. Jory wanted to kiss him. He’d probably laid in bed at night, touching himself to the idea of Thiessen between his sheets, pressed close. Lord knows Thiessen had fantasized about the man plenty, but fantasies were so much easier to fall into bed with…

Thiessen? His phone chimed once more and Thiessen was surprised when the screen blurred. He swiped at his eyes before the tears could fall, dragging the dampness across his face. God. Get it together. Why was he crying? But he couldn’t bring himself to touch the keyboard floating at the bottom of the text window. His fingers trembled with the ideas spinning round his mind.

Jory liked him. Jory wanted to kiss him. This was real life.

Shit. I’m sorry. Please don’t freak out...

He closed his eyes, squeezing them tightly shut, then blew out a long breath and asked the question before he could back out. If I wanted to be more than friends, you would take it slow? He blinked dampness out of his eyes and pressed send.

His response was immediate: Oh, honey, I would be so careful with you. I don’t want you to rush into anything. If you’re not interested, you can tell me. It’s perfectly okay, I promise. We can just be friends.

But Thiessen knew it would be next to impossible to just be friends, not when his skin practically begged to be touched. No. I really like you, I’m just…scared, I guess. It’s been a long time and I don’t know what I’m doing, but I want to see where this goes. Slowly.

I can do slowly, Jory texted back.

Even if its sloth-slow? Like…

I am a very patient man, Thiessen. I’ve waited this long, so what’s another year or two ;)

Thiessen’s stomach flip-flopped, but he was smiling. There was no way in hell he could wait an entire year before he got to touch Jory, but he was thankful nonetheless. Thank you.

Anytime.

His first day back on the clock was hell.

Jory’s stomach twisted in the worst of ways as he slowly made his way to the room where the Davids were waiting with bated breath, yearning for good news. There would be none. Today was as bleak as the fog that covered the world in a shroud of darkness. His heart ached, as if someone was plunging a red-hot poker into his chest, over and over again, just to see him bleed.

This was the worst part of being a vet. Knowing that he’d done everything he could, and he still couldn’t save the precious life on his operating table. Knowing that just a few weeks ago, the little Chihuahua was strutting around the room, yipping and full of herself, and now she was dead.

His throat worked with each sharp-as-glass swallow he took as he tried to prepare himself. Hesitating outside the exam room, he reached out and touched the cool handle of the doorknob, took a deep breath, and walked inside.

The hopeful faces of newlyweds Annabeth and Jacob David greeted him, but he didn’t even have to open his mouth. They took one look at the somber expression on his face and Annabeth burst into noisy tears. “No.”

Emotion reached out to strangle him, but Jory pushed it aside best he could. His voice was a rasp when he did speak. “I’m so sorry. There was nothing else I could do. We lost her.” He stood in the center of the small room, feeling that all-too-familiar numbness spread through his body, starting with a tingle at his fingertips and slithering its way upwards.

Annabeth dropped her head into her hands, letting loose a broken sob that cut Jory to the bone. “No. No… Not my baby. Not my Bella. She was too young, just a baby. She was just a baby!” Her husband leaned in and wrapped his arm around her, drawing her close. She sagged against him and buried her face in his shoulder, her cries muffled but no less painful.

“I’m… I’m so very sorry,” Jory murmured. Grabbing the box of tissues off the countertop, he offered them to the Davids. Jacob gave a thin smile, his own eyes misty, and tugged a few tissues free. He gently dabbed at his wife’s eyes and she blew her nose with a loud honk. “I did everything that I could, but her body was just too tired. If there’s anything I can do for you, anything at all, please, don’t hesitate to ask.”

Annabeth smiled through her tears, then shook her head. Her pierced lower lip wobbled. “N-No. It’s my fault. If I would’ve brought her in sooner, when she first got sick, then maybe…” She hiccuped and covered her mouth. Jory could see the pain that washed over her face. “Thank you, Dr. Crosswind. You tried, and that’s all we could ask. I know my baby was in good hands, all the way to the end.”

Her husband stood, his shoulders drooping. “You… You offer cremation services, correct?” He glanced to his wife, who sniffled into a tissue. She nodded quickly. “So we can keep our Bella close. She was our little angel.”

“Of course,” Jory replied. “I’ll take care of everything. If you want to stop by later this afternoon and fill out some paperwork, we’ll make it right. We’ll send her home to you.”

“You’re a good man, Dr. Crosswind,” Jacob David said, shaking Jory’s hand. “A good vet. Thank you.”

Jory walked them out to the lobby and as they gathered up Bella’s travel carrier, Jory made a mental note to stop by the store on his way home and pick up a sympathy card send to them, offering the clinic’s condolences. It was the least he could do.

“Hey—are you okay, Doc? You’re looking a little pale,” Hemi said.

“I’ll be fine. I need to sit down for a minute, is all.”

He needed a minute alone, to decompress and compose himself because right now, he felt like he might lose it. He escaped to his office nestled at the very back of the clinic and shut the door behind him, staggering over to his chair. He sank down and closed his eyes, his hands shaking and his chest clenching tight.

Breathe. You did everything you could, he told himself. The chicken bones that little Bella had somehow ingested had perforated her stomach. What the Davids thought was a stomach bug was actually life threatening. By the time they brought her in, she was too weak, her tiny body in sepsis and her organs failing. He tried, but there was nothing he could do.

Knowing that didn’t stop the ache, though. It didn’t stop the sorrow that built in the back of his throat, clawing desperately to be freed. Euthanasia was one thing; he had time to prepare himself for that loss, though it was in no way any easier than this. But the owners were at least able to say a proper farewell, perhaps hold their loved one’s paw as she closed her tired eyes and slipped away.

But to have that little life ripped from beneath his very fingertips?

It would never get any easier.

Jory closed his eyes and for several moments, focused on breathing. When he felt like he had it under control, he reached for his phone. A text from two hours ago filled his screen. Ugh, this fucking book I swear is gonna be the death of me. Plot hole. Fuck, just kill me now… SOS. Jory smiled despite his funk. Always so dramatic, that one.

A timestamp fifteen minutes later: Okay, crisis averted. Turns out I was hangry. You wouldn’t like me when I’m hangry. Hulk-smash.

Twenty minutes after that: I think I might run into town for some groceries. Want me to stop by and say hi? Speak now or forever hold your peace lol.

And the most recent: Hey, you’re quiet. Is everything okay?

Jory clenched his phone in his hand and blinked past the tears gathering on his lashes. Thiessen had no idea that his one-sided conversation was a welcome reprieve from the stress of today, or that his messages lifted Jory’s spirits each and every time a text chimed in.

Sorry, it’s been a rough day. I lost a patient. Death is so hard for me. It’s the downside of such a wonderful job. I’m filled with heartache and the dog wasn’t even mine, but damn if I can’t help but think about Felicity up on that operating table. Just damn. He wiped at the dampness on his cheek and sniffed. I’m sorry for worrying you.

Fuck, Jory. That blows. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have bothered you.

Don’t say that. I needed those texts, so thank you for the smile.

Glad my angst could be of assistance lol. Can I do anything else for you?

Jory smiled. What did you eat? Tell me all about it, in explicit detail. Can you do that? Maybe it’ll get my mind on happier things. Food is always a good thing, hah.

Okay, picture this beautiful piece of artwork. Two glorious slices of whole-grain bread, toasted to perfection. Lay them flat on a plate, so that their innards might be graced with a light spreading of mayo—but not too much, just the right amount. Now I’ll lay down a delicate green leaf of lettuce. A moment later, two hearty slices of ripe tomato, sans the seeds because they taste like shit. And finally, to make the perfect sandwich? An entire buttload of bacon, hot and crispy and straight out of the frying pan. Now we close the sandwich and take a huge bite, savoring the crunch it makes, and ahh… Can you taste it, Jory?

His mouth all but watered. I can. Damn, that sounds amazing and I’m not even hungry.

You should eat anyway, came Thiessen’s swift reply. Sadness will gut you faster than anything. At least nibble on some crackers or something, so I know you’re okay. Keep your strength up. For me, please?

You don’t have to worry, Thiessen. I’m a big boy. I’ll be okay. I just need to get through my shift, then go home, hug my dog and cry it off.

I know, but I’m gonna worry anyway and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.

Jory chuckled at that. I’ll try and grab a bite to eat, just for you, okay? I promise.

Pinky-swear?

I pinky-swear that I will eat something, even if I have to raid Hemi’s lunchbox.

Lol. Win. Okay. Text me when you get off—or if you need me before that. I’m right here.

I’m right here. His chest squeezed. I know. I will. Wish me luck.

All of it <3

After rereading their conversation, twice, Jory managed to pull himself together. Like he promised, he raided the staff fridge and grabbed a couple of sticks of string cheese from the bottom drawer, where he’d been keeping snacks. Cheese was protein, right?

He leaned against the sink basin and carefully peeled the cheese, string by string, and forced himself to eat even though he could barely taste it. As he chewed his last bite, one of the techs that had been in surgery with him came meandering around the corner. She stopped when she saw him.

“Hey… Hanging in there, Dr. Crosswind?” He could tell that Michelle had been crying; her eyes were puffy and red, try as she might to smile through the pain. Death was hard on everyone, especially when the life they lost was so young.

“I’ll be okay. How are you?”

She opened her mouth to speak, only to laugh. It was a breathless, sad sound. “I’m gonna make it. Just another day in the life of a vet tech, right? We did our best, so don’t beat yourself up, okay? We did our best and it’s all we could do.” She pursed her lips with a firm nod. “It sucks.”

“It does suck,” he agreed. “But life goes on.”

“I know. How did the Davids take it?”

Jory sighed and tossed his cheese wrappers in the trash can. “About as well as could be expected. Broke my damn heart. I need to go home and take a long, hot shower and hug my pup.” Dog therapy was the best kind of therapy. Hopefully Felicity would forgive him if they didn’t go for a run tonight. He was emotionally drained and needed to veg.

And that’s exactly what he planned to do.

He dragged himself through the rest of the work day and drove home with a heavy heart. This, too, shall pass. Wasn’t that what his mom always said? It might pass like a kidney stone, but it will pass. Nobody can be sad forever, Jory. There will always be a silver lining and it will make you smile when you least expect it.

His phone buzzed right as he was pulling into the drive. Putting the car in park and killing the engine, he tapped the screen to see a text from Thiessen. How are you doing? You’ve been on my mind all day…

Jory typed back a reply. I’m alive, that’s something, right? Sad. I’ll get over it. This isn’t the first time and it won’t be the last. I just need to wash off the stress of the day and space out while watching TV. No biggie.

Would having company make it better? I could stop by, if that would help.

He paused. Was Thiessen really offering to come visit him? I’ll be shitty company. Prob won’t talk much. I might fall asleep on you…

I don’t mind. Really. I want to be there for you. I think you need a hug and I might just have one stored up for this very moment lol. What do you say?

A grin twitched at Jory’s lips, slowly spreading across his face. After the day I’ve had, a hug might be just what I need. You’re sweet. He quickly tapped out his address and sent the text and a moment later, he got a reply. The moths in his gut fluttered to life, their papery wings brushing against sensitive organs.

Give me twenty.

Wasn’t it funny how something as simple as a text could flip his emotions upside down? Feeling a little more alive than he had five minutes ago, Jory grabbed his keys and went inside, serenaded by Felicity’s howls. She greeted him at the door, jumping straight up into the air with yips of excitement. He quickly leashed her and let her drag him around the front yard to potty.

“Let’s go back inside. Dinner!”

Dishing out Felicity’s kibble, he spent a couple of minutes tidying up after his late night video game session with Jaren, then hopped in a quick shower. He lathered up a wash cloth and scrubbed the workday off his skin, letting the water wick the bubbles away. He shampooed his hair, then stood beneath the spray of steaming water, letting it pound against the tense muscles of his back.

It felt amazing.

The doorbell chimed at a little past seven. Jory had penned Felicity up in the bathroom so she didn’t freak out over having company—and so Thiessen didn’t freak out over being mauled by an overly-excited Siberian husky. He answered the door and Thiessen strode in with a take-home bag from the Sundance Diner in his hand.

“Beware of geeks bearing gifts?” He lifted the bag with a sideways smile.

Jory’s heart swelled. “You didn’t have to bring me food, Thiessen,” he said, but Thiessen shrugged him off and wandered past him, into the house. He set the bag down on the kitchen table and pulled out two Styrofoam containers of food. Jory’s stomach gave a pang. “God, that smells good.”

“Hah. I figured you’d neglected to eat.” Thiessen wagged a finger at him.

“Hey, I had some string cheese…”

“Yeah, cuz cheese is so filling.” He rolled his eyes, then crooked that finger in a come-hither motion. “Sit down, please, and point me to the silverware drawer. Somedays, we need to be spoiled, and that’s what I’m doing.” He looked Jory right in the eye, his lip lifting at one corner. “I’m spoiling you.”

“You’re too sweet.” Jory did as he asked and sat down. “Second to the left—yep, that drawer there. Cups are right above it in the cabinet. There’s ice in the freezer and juice in the fridge, as well as milk and bottled water. Help yourself.”

Thiessen joined him at the table, sliding over a fork and a glass of milk. It sloshed at the edges of the red plastic cup. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I went with Mags’s suggestion. Special of the week. Lucky you, huh?”

Jory lifted the lid off his container and steam rose up. Several hearty chunks of meatloaf sat nestled beside a large serving of Mags’s garlic mashed potatoes and beef gravy. Glazed baby carrots filled the section behind it. He grinned. She knew him well. “Mags is such a sweetheart…and so are you. Thank you. This looks amazing.”

Thiessen offered a smile and leaned forward. “Take a bite.”

Aware of Thiessen’s eyes on him, Jory speared a square of the juicy meatloaf on his fork, dipped it in the gravy, and then popped it into his mouth. The moment he did, flavors burst to life across his tongue and he groaned with satisfaction.

Thiessen’s brows lifted. “Good?”

He hummed. “So good. What did you get?”

“Smothered chicken.” He gestured to the pair of chicken breasts covered in sautéed onions and mushrooms, smothered in a blanket of gooey provolone cheese. “I’m not a meatloaf person. I suffered through too many of my mother’s botched attempts, served cold on top of a pile of watery instant potatoes.” He grimaced. “I can’t handle the thought of any meat in loaf-form now, but Mags seemed to think you’d enjoy it.”

“And I am.” Jory didn’t realize how hungry he was until he began to eat. Not much was said between them as they ate, but they didn’t need words. Jory was surprised by how much of a comfort it was to share his space with another human being. More importantly, with Thiessen.

Thiessen stood and took care of their dishes when they’d finished, dropping the silverware and cups into the mostly-empty dishwasher and tossing out the containers in the garbage can beneath the sink. “Weird place for a trash can,” he mused.

Jory chuckled. “Had to hide it after Felicity discovered that there were tasty things hiding inside. I got tired of picking up pieces of shredded trash, not to mention the fact that I was paranoid that she’d eat something she shouldn’t and she’d get sick.”

Just like Bella and the chicken bones. He sighed, deflating once more. Damn.

“Come here.” Thiessen’s voice was soft and low. When Jory stood and walked over to him, the man stepped into his space and wrapped both arms around his chest in a tight embrace. Jory’s breath stuttered at the sudden warmth and the lingering apple scent of Thiessen’s shampoo. With one hand lingering at the small of Thiessen’s back, he pulled him closer, reveling in the moment.

When Thiessen let him go, his face was flushed and he looked a little flustered, but Jory touched his cheek with the side of his hand. “Thank you. I really, really needed that. Do you wanna stay and watch a movie?” He didn’t realize how much he needed Thiessen to say yes until the other man smiled almost shyly. Jory’s heart thudded quick, a rapid beat in his chest.

“That sounds nice.”

Jory grinned. “Let me introduce you to my roommate first, though.” He could hear Felicity whimpering on the other side of the door. Thiessen gave him a strange look, but when he brought out the husky, straining on her leash, the man bent down to greet her. “This is Felicity. She’s my best friend.”

Thiessen’s hands smoothed over her gingery fur. “She’s beautiful. She looks like a wolf.”

“I know. I love it.” Jory let her go and after she’d finished sniffing at Thiessen’s pants, she disappeared into the kitchen. A moment later, metal dog tags rattled against the water dish. “Come sit down. I need something funny. I’ve had enough angst for one day.”

He flopped down on the couch and grabbed his mom’s knitted blanket off the floor, where Felicity had managed to drag it off the back of the arm chair. Little brat. He did a quick sniff-test to make sure it didn’t smell like wet dog, then patted the cushion beside him.

Thiessen was nervous. He could practically feel the thrum of the man’s energy against his skin. “Relax,” he murmured when Thiessen sat down next to him on the couch, too close to be friendly but not close enough for Jory’s liking. Jory shifted into the cushions and gently pulled the man against him and with a soft hiss of an exhale, Thiessen cuddled in next to him. “There we go. Better?”

He saw Thiessen’s Adam’s apple bob, but the man nodded ever-so-slightly. Jory tossed the blanket over them and grabbed the controller to his PS4, browsing through Netflix’s comedy section before landing on a TV show that looked vaguely interesting. He didn’t intend to pay too much attention, but he wanted background noise and canned laughter sounded right up his alley. Once the show began to play, he dropped his head against the couch cushions and closed his eyes.

This was nice.

He must’ve dozed out because the next thing he heard was, “Hey. You’re snoring.”

Jory jerked awake. “Sorry, I’m tired.”

“Don’t be sorry. Sleep. I’m gonna watch the next episode, okay?” Thiessen’s voice was slow and sleepy and when he lay his cheek on Jory’s chest, Jory realized that the man had made himself right at home. He was curled up against him, his long legs stretched out, using Jory as a glorified body pillow.

Jory smiled and bent his head just enough that he could brush his nose against Thiessen’s blond hair. He breathed in the faint, fruity scent of green apples—the scent he’d come to recognize as purely Thiessen—and closed his eyes once more. “Okay,” he mumbled, sleep tugging at the corners of his consciousness once more.

He woke early the next morning with his neck in a kink, covered up by the blanket they shared last night. Thiessen was gone, which he’d fully expected, but upon meandering into the kitchen to get a drink, there was a handwritten note sitting in front of the coffee machine.

Text me in the morning, Sleeping Beauty. Yours, T.

Jory smiled. He could get used to this.