Worth Waiting For by Wendy Qualls

Author:Wendy Qualls [Qualls, Wendy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-08-14T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 13

“What time is it?”

Brandon rolled over and stared blearily at the clock. “Fuck-it early. It’s a Saturday. How are you awake?”

“Bladder.” Paul rolled out of Brandon’s bed and stumbled his way to the bathroom. The overhead light hurt his eyes, but he couldn’t find the nightlight without it (there was one in the socket under the mirror, he noticed eventually) and by the time his eyes had adjusted well enough to see the nightlight it didn’t really matter. He relieved himself, scrubbed a hand through his hair, brushed his disgusting morning breath away, and went to climb back into bed. When he got back in the bedroom, though, the lamp was on and Brandon was awake enough to seize him from behind and tug him back under the covers in a limpet-like grasp.

“Thought you were asleep,” Paul said.

“I was. Then you left and your side of the bed got cold.” Brandon grumbled something against the nape of Paul’s neck and pulled him closer, throwing a warm leg over Paul’s own and pressing a hard, recognizable shape up against his rear. “It’s all your fault, you know—I didn’t know what I was missing until you let me sleep next to you. I had no idea I would be a morning cuddler.”

“When I don’t have to pee, I don’t mind a bit.” Paul let himself relax further, shuffling back and letting Brandon tighten an arm over his chest. “It’s one of the few things I miss about living with Christopher—he was terrible at waking up in the morning, but I was never cold.”

Brandon exhaled, a soft huff of laughter which ruffled the hair at the back of Paul’s neck. “Demoted to portable space heater. Thanks a lot.”

“Oh, come off it.” Paul nudged a shoulder backward into Brandon’s. “You know what I meant.”

“Not really,” Brandon said, his voice still a bit rough but sounding more awake than he had been a minute ago. “Like I told you before, I never stick around for the sleeping part. I always assumed sharing a bed with someone would be like when we went on vacation and I had to share a hotel room with my brothers—we usually ended up having to draw straws for who had to sleep next to Jordan. He liked to ‘vent a toe’ in the middle of the night when he was hot, then plaster his cold foot against your back when he rolled over. Maybe he still does; could be why he’s been dating his girlfriend for six years now and they’re not engaged yet.”

Paul hid his smile in the pillow. “Jordan’s the next oldest?”

“Eric, Marshall, Jordan, then me. Six, three, and two years older than I am, respectively. Marshall and Jordan both live out of town—Marshall’s in New York and Jordan’s in Virginia—but Eric’s still in Atlanta. He and his wife, Anita, have me over to eat sometimes.” Brandon nuzzled a kiss against the nape of Paul’s neck. “They’re kind to take pity on me, the lonely bachelor who can’t cook.

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