Chapter Eight
Dylan
If I had to f**k the anxiety out of my girl to give us peace, I took that job seriously.
I worked on her until she fell deep enough asleep to snore lightly, then used the bathroom and quietly left the bedroom to rehydrate. Certain muscles told me I wouldn’t need the gym this weekend, but I never regretted fatigue from s*x.
That conversation in the truck got scary. I thought she was going to use some needing space line on me and get in her car, but she surprised me, thank God. We needed to settle this living arrangement question pronto or we’d keep having these fights, and I didn’t want one of those hypotheticals to be final. She loved the mountain and I loved her, so was it on me to compromise here? A writer can write anywhere…except when they can’t.
needing spaceM
