* * * *
Colby, after Jason left, lay without moving for a moment, hugged by and hugging pillows. The door really had shut; he could see it. No one coming in or out. His room, his space.
His boots sat in their parade line beside the bed. They kept silent, but they looked contented.
He closed both eyes, opened them.
He was perhaps closer to drunk than he’d meant to be, but not as far gone as Jason so plainly thought. He’d always had a fairly high alcohol tolerance, though of course he was so tired lately and he hadn’t been eating.
He’d eaten more tonight than he had for…some time. Quite a while. He felt full and comfortable and slightly drowsy.
He wiggled toes. Those were also comfortable. Because Jason had knelt, and had kindly, with firm hands, removed his shoes. Jason had brought ov
