9
Evan had stayed the night. He made good on the massage, but I stopped him from his promise of lathering me. Even though he wouldn’t admit it, I could feel the exhaustion through his hands and see it in the creases by his eyes. Full-time school and work was draining him. For him not to come into the bar to flirt with women meant he was hurting from the lack of sleep and his demanding schedule. That, and he only made one failed attempt to kiss me and then fell asleep instantly.
I watched him as he slept next to me, his hair tousled and his face pressed into the pillow. The rise and fall of his chest was soothing. I studied his features, lingering on his soft lips. I made my decision in that moment. I reached for my phone and scrolled through contacts.
Brett Thompson . . . delete . . .
