"Shit," the curse woke Beverly from her slumber, and she flipped over onto her side, watching through blurry eyes and the minimal daylight filtering through the window as Deb scrambled through a duffel bag, her actions frantic.

"What are you doing?" she croaked, rubbing her eyes and sitting up.

Deb cursed again, head swiveling to look at Beverly. When she saw her awaked, another stream of curses about dumb roommates and poor timing left her, and then she threw the duffel bag onto the bed, snatching up her backpack before storming out of the dorm room and letting the door slam behind her.

Beverly blew out a weary breath, flopping back onto her bed and checking the clock.

5:23 a.m.

Groaning, Beverly threw the covers off and climbed out of bed, knowing she wouldn't be able to fall asleep again. Deb's hours had been getting stranger and stranger as time went on, and the circles under Beverly's eyes had grown with each early-morning or late-night wake-up call.

She shuffled through her closet, pulling out one of her nicer pairs of jeans and a blouse and setting them on the bed. As much as she loved leggings and hoodies, she didn't want to look too much like a slob, since it was Thanksgiving Day and she'd be spending it with Cynthia and Griffin.

Of course, that wasn't for another several hours, at least, so she pulled out her textbooks and settled at her desk to get some homework done in the meantime.

***

"I don't mean this in a bad way," Griffin began when she answered the door several hours later, "but you look exhausted."

Not energetic enough for a witty reply, Beverly just yawned. "I am. Let me just grab my bag, and we can go."

He waited by the door as she snatched up her rarely used purse, his face conveying his concern. "Are you sure you're up for this today?"

"Absolutely," she bit back another yawn. "One-hundred percent."

Griffin didn't seem convinced, but he didn't protest further. When she spun around to lock the door, he took her purse from her. At her confused look, he smiled and said, "Just being a gentleman, Beverly. Cynthia will kill me if I'm not." To himself, he added, "And I want to be."

Beverly chuckled heartily, too tired to tease him for the soft words as she handed him her keys as well so he could stuff them in her bag for her. "On we go, then, gentleman. Has Cynthia started cooking?"

His large hand encased hers as they strode down the hall, and she was suddenly wide awake. He squeezed gently and responded, "Uh, yeah, she's been up since five. This is the first time we've had anyone besides the two of us for a couple of years, so she's pretty excited. She's not expecting us for another couple of hours though, so I thought we might go somewhere till then."

That was the best idea Beverly had heard in a while, and she tried to nod, only to be stopped by another yawn. Griffin smirked as he opened the car door for her and helped her inside, handing over her purse once she was situated. "Or maybe we can go back to my apartment, and you can take a nap."

Beverly's smile was sheepish. "As much as I'd like to go on another adventure with you, I think a nap is a great idea; if I don't get one, I might fall asleep in Cynthia's cooking."

"Have you not been sleeping?" The question was innocent, but Beverly hadn't forgotten about Griffin's protectiveness for the people he cared about. As worried as she was about Deb's shenanigans, she didn't have proof that the girl was actually doing anything wrong, so what could she say?

Oh, no worries, I just think that maybe my roommate is a criminal?

Yeah, something told her that Griffin would not take kindly to such words. And who was she to bring him such a problem on a day that was meant to be happy? Not her. Not yet.

"On and off," she replied, apologizing mentally when she tacked on the lie of, "Finals are coming up, and a stressed Beverly is apparently an insomniac Beverly. I'll be good to go once winter break is here."

You know, so long as my roommate doesn't get me murdered and all that shiz.

She melted into his touch when Griffin placed his hand on her thigh and squeeze gently. "If you need to get away from your dorm for a while," he began, his voice so quiet that she could barely hear him over the car's engine, "you can always come and stay at mine for a bit. Just . . . just let me know first, and then I can make sure nothing happens to you."

Recalling the many shady characters hanging around his apartment, Beverly cringed, but nodded nonetheless. "Thanks, Griff, I will." She meant it, too. God knew she'd rather risk the folks outside Griffin's place then have them find her in her own room thanks to Deb's, er, connections.

"Anything for you, Beverly," the words were resolute, and she swallowed down a shriek that likely would have made any super-fan of a pop singer jealous.

"Be careful," she teased to cover up the feelings bubbling in the back of her throat, "keep saying things like that and you'll never get rid of me."

Griffin chuckled huskily, his thumb stroking over her leg, and she swallowed. "That's the goal."

And then, as if he hadn't just dropped such a damn bomb of flirtation right onto her, he pulled his hand from her leg and refocused his entire attention on the road, leaving Beverly to gape at him from her seat for the remainder of the drive, wondering where his shyness had run off to.

***

Griffin glared his way through a group of five men that were loitering near the apartment building's staircase. Beverly was firmly tucked into his side, and she did her best to stay as small as possible, only relaxing when Griffin had locked his apartment door behind them.

Her gaze strayed to the lumpy couch, and she smiled at the thought of sinking into its warmth and snoozing away; however, before she could head in that direction, Griffin tugged her to the back of the apartment and patted his bed.

"What?" she asked, looking between him and the bed with confusion.

Griffin smiled shyly. "I think the bed would be a bit more comfortable, don't you?"

Her brows rose, the she was inwardly touched by the gesture. "Your bed? Wow, you are a really good friend, Griffin. In fact, I'd say you're definitely on your way to 'best friend'."

He chuckled lowly, pulling the covers back and waiting as she peeled off her shoes and thick jacket before he helped her in. "Noise does travel, since it's a studio," he warned, "but I'll try to be quiet."

Beverly waved a hand through the air drowsily. "No worries, Griff. I won't have a problem falling asleep, I think. I'm zonked, dude."

He caught her flapping hand in his own and pressed his lips against her knuckles. Had she not been so tired, she would have shot out of the bed at the enticing feel of his chapped lips against her skin. "Sweet dreams, Beverly." He tucked her hand by her side, under the covers, and then his warmth was gone, and she faintly heard him padding away.

***

When Beverly woke up, she felt more rested than she ever had in her dorm room with Deb's antics and a shitty lock. She stretched languidly in Griffin's bed, enjoying the extra space the queen-sized mattress had to offer compared to her cramped twin. She didn't see Griffin in the immediate area, but—judging by the murmuring coming from the living room—she had a feeling he was watching TV.

Heaving herself from the bed but remaining wrapped up in Griffin's soft blue comforter, she shuffled forward, uncaring that her hair and outfit were a mess. After all, if Griffin hadn't wanted to see her as a sleepy gremlin, he wouldn't have invited her to take a nap in the first place.

Or, that's what she was telling herself, anyway.

As she'd suspected, Griffin was settled on the couch, his sock-clad feet propped on the small coffee table as he watched television. His head turned when he heard her footsteps, and his smile was so soft and full of adoration that she almost melted on the spot at the sight.

Feeling even braver than usual, Beverly settled on the couch directly next to him, still nestled in the blanket even as she cuddled into his side. Griffin, thankfully, was more than accommodating, throwing an arm around her shoulder and tugging her closer, until her head was tucked into the crook of his neck and his warmth was chasing away even the slightest hint of a chill.

"Good?" he asked after several peaceful moments slipped by, his voice barely a whisper.

Beverly smiled into his neck, closing her eyes and soaking in the tranquility of the situation. "Good."

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