I had to fight Michael and his wandering hands off most of the way back to the room, one, in the rare case that someone would appear in the hallway, and two, simply so I could walk.

I stopped in front of the door and gave him a shove while I attempted unlocking it. "Hold on, would you?" I snapped. He kissed me roughly as I stumbled into the room. "Michael."

"Shh," he silenced.

"Wait." I tried to squirm out of his grasp as he grabbed two fistfuls of my shirt and pulled it up my chest. "Slow down."

He made some kind of deep growl of impatience and gripped me tightly. I groaned and pushed against him, my hands winding over his shoulders, his fingers grazing down to the small of my back, making me arch it sharply.

"You're not fucking me," I whispered.

His gaze tightened. "Why not?"

I shrugged and turned to prance away from him, enjoying my small power. "If you wanted to get laid, you shoulda stayed with Meg."

He sighed and unzipped his jacket, throwing it to the ground and yanking the button of his pants undone. "I picked you, that means nothing?"

I grinned. "Oh, of course," I said dramatically. "I'm so very honored. The divine Michael D'Angelo has blessed me with his costly time."

"Shut up," he muttered.

"You could've come home yesterday, if you were really so desperate for me," I continued. "But Heather was the lucky winner of the night, huh?"

He smirked over his shoulder. "You missed me."

"Uh, no," I said.

"You did." He turned, looking from my eyes, down to my lips, back up to my eyes. "You lying bitch. You missed me."

"At least I'm not a cheating bitch," I said lamely. "Which is.... what you're trying to do."

He shook his head as he approached me, making me automatically shiver. "No, no, you can't get out of this. Admit it."

I pinched my lips together and stared up at him.

"Well, you're gonna be stuck with me awhile." He twirled his finger through a frontline lock of my hair. "Yesterday didn't really go the best."

Good. "I told you she was stupid."

"Oh, we're still a thing," he told me. "I was texting her today. I'm gonna take her out again. Alone. Your little friend ruined her night."

I smirked. "Remind me to thank her."

He scoffed and took a seat on his mattress to untie his shoes. "Why do you hate her so much? I mean, I get hating Kitty, hell, I hate Kitty, but Heather's so ni-"

"I just think you should date someone who's right for you," I interrupted. God, I sound like Sarah, I thought. I was becoming everything I disliked in her.

Michael looked straight at me, taking a short breath. "Do you wanna date me?"

Every nerve in my body flipped upside down. "No."

"Then shut up," he said.

Did I? Want to date him? I allowed myself to wonder privately. What would that even look like? No, it was too scary. So what did I want? To make him stay single forever and only be my "friend"?

He lied back, then sat up again and sighed discontentedly. "Another thing. Gimme my sheets back, you thief."

"It was, like, really cold last night," I said as I went to fetch them, which was true. "I was taking all the warmth I could get."

"Hmm." He lifted his pillow from the bundle of covers I presented to him and tossed it down at the head of his bed. "Why don't you just stay over here?"

"I was kinda mad at you," I mumbled.

"Not mad enough to resist snuggling my pillow, apparently," he pointed out. I winced.

He let his jeans drop down and stepped out of them, giving the back of his knee a little scratch before he crawled into the mess of blankets. "New rule," he said as I walked over. "No clothes allowed in my bed."

My stomach twisted. "But I'm cold."

He clicked his tongue unsympathetically and adjusted his pillow behind him. "Strip or go sleep in your old bed."

I shivered and wrapped my arms around my freezing chest. He was surely bluffing. Michael was the cuddle-enthusiast, not me. However, I'd been waiting for this moment all evening. "Close your eyes," I ordered.

He broke into a smile and dutifully shut them.

I pulled my pants down and then my underwear, leaving my socks on as always, and crept over to the bed. He didn't move. I rolled over him and collapsed at his side, curling one leg around his under the covers.

"Shit, you are cold."

"I told you."

Michael's eyes opened suddenly and he flipped his head to the side. "Do you want a hoodie?"

I yawned deeply and shivered. "What?"

"Do you- I can give you one of my hoodies," he said excitedly. "I kinda always wanted to do that. It's a thing." I peered at him through one eye, watching him grin and bounce slightly like he was poorly attempting to contain himself.

"A thing?"

"Yeah," he said. "Like... a boyfriend thing."

"Dude, I'm not your fucking-" I started automatically, then paused. What am I doing? He's practically confessing his love for me. In hoodie form. "You know what, go ahead."

He wriggled back to escape my sloth-like hold and got up, disappearing into the darkness of our room. I mentally added a lamp to my shopping list.

"I have no laundry," Michael complained over the sound of a slamming dresser drawer. "When is Miss Smurf coming to clean?"

"We're currently not on speaking terms," I reminded him.

He scoffed. "That is so stupid, man. If I got a problem with my friend I just punch him in the face and get the fuck over it."

"Yeah, I don't really see myself beating on Sarah, thanks," I said. "Maybe 'cuz I'm, like, civilized."

"You're weak." He crawled over me, his folded sweatshirt secure in his grasp. "She'd probably beat you up."

I giggled and didn't move for a second, looking into his eyes, then shot my left fist forward towards his face. He ducked back and caught the jab in his palm, laughing as I swung with my opposite arm to narrowly strike him in the shoulder.

"Whoever gave you boxing lessons scammed you," he said as he pinned my entrapped hands above my head.

Objectively, I was probably a lot better at dodging punches than throwing them. But I didn't want to think about that right now.

I hummed a subdued laugh while he wrangled the hoodie onto me, smothering me when my head got stuck inside. It was a solid, plain sort of sage color, and soft inside like it hadn't been worn much. I pulled at each sleeve until my frozen fingers were safely nestled in the brushed cotton.

"Perfect," he declared, sitting back on his knees to look at me. Like I was his finest, most precious masterpiece.

My heart soared.

His hands left my sides and closed around mine. I looked up, opening my mouth a little to speak, then bit down hard on my lower lip.

"What?" he said.

"I kinda wanna kiss you," I whispered.

"Well gosh, Benjamin, you could've just said that." I broke into a real laugh and clung to his shoulders as he pulled me into his lap, waiting for my legs to naturally wrap around his sides. "We shape together pretty good, don't we?"

I inhaled evenly. "I'm getting the hang of it."

His thighs were still warm, somehow, which gave me yet another reason to envy every aspect of his body. I shimmied around on them, trying to heat up my own skin, and then stopped as his rough palms suddenly cupped under my ass. "Are you humping me?" he said.

"No," I said quickly. "You're warm. I'm cold."

"'Cuz I feel like you're humping me."

"I wasn-" My breath caught as he dragged me closer, making our foreheads touch, and I ducked my burning face into the crook of his neck.

I had, without realizing it, worked myself up to a quickly-growing semi that crushed against his hard stomach as he moved his hands, squeezing me and pressing our chests together. "Of course you're cold," he murmured. "You're tiny."

"Thanks a lot."

"And so, so fucking cute," he whispered. "C'mere."

I clenched my thighs to his waist as he lurched forward suddenly, holding me snugly against him, and nabbed his discarded jeans off the floor. My brain ran through a list of what he could be planning. A condom? Did we have to use condoms anyway? It wasn't like we were gonna get pregnant. How did STDs work if it was another dick?

"Stay right there," Michael said. He balanced his phone in one hand and sat me gently on the bed.

I frowned as he fluffed up my hair a little and drew my hips forward. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, just, you know," he said, dropping into a crouch beside the bed. "Collecting evidence you're not a figment of my imagination."

I tugged the bottom of his hoodie down in front just so it was covering my privates as the flash from his camera blinded me. "You're not gonna, like, blackmail me with that now, right?" I asked casually as I fought down the panic rising in me.

He snickered and stood up, then collapsed onto the mattress and snapped another of me from the side. "And what do you have that I could possibly blackmail you for?"

"I don't know," I mumbled. "But my whole friendship with Sarah got fucked up because of some weird picture of me."

"I thought it was because you didn't text her on time or something," he said.

"No, it was that night me and Rhoda went out and got drunk and I forgot her... obviously you remember, you-"

"Wait." His eyebrows knitted together and his voice softened. "Are you talking about the picture with Chelsea?"

It took me a minute to remember if that was her name. "Yeah, I think so. How do you know about that?"

He dropped his gaze. "I dunno."

"You were there, weren't you?" I pressed. "You never told me what happened. And now Sarah thinks I'm some kind of creep."

"It doesn't matter."

I huffed a sigh of frustration and stretched up to his bedside table to retrieve my phone, then sank back to a seated position and opened my camera. "Prepare for revenge."

"Impossible. I am stunning, and-"

I tapped the screen and cackled as I captured him whipping his head harshly away from the blinding light. "Marvelous," I said. "This is art. You have a double chin."

"Lemme see," he demanded, and I snatched my arm away, rocking onto my side as he made another grab for me. "C'mon, I wanna see it."

"No." I turned over onto my stomach to bury my phone beneath me, a bad idea as he dropped his weight on me and burrowed his fingers under my sides. "No, it's mine now! Get off!"

"Fine," he sighed. I narrowed my eyes suspiciously while he sat up and twisted around to face my lower half. "Your little booty here will make a beautiful lock screen," he said, patting it.

"You-" I started in pure shock before he took a third picture, forever saving the image of my very pale and very exposed ass to his camera roll. "Michael!" I screamed.

He jumped back and took two more in a row of me lifting his pillow to hide my face.

"Stop," I mumbled into it. I could still smell his cologne from last night.

"I'm sorry," he laughed. "You look really cute pouting, though."

I lowered my shield cautiously and peered out with half my face. "Wanna take a picture together?" I asked, my stomach rolling in anxiety. Was taking pictures together weird, or did I just think everything was weird? Would he think it was weird? Why did I want to in the first place? That was weird.

"Like a selfie?" he said.

I squirmed. Too late now. "Yeah. I guess."

"Okay." He dropped onto his side and pulled me close, one arm curled under me, the other outstretched to level the camera. "Smile."

I did, and blinked at the flash, trying to maintain a somewhat normal expression for the actual picture. I gathered his blankets up to my cheek. "You should AirDrop that to me."

He smirked, admiring it, then tilted his head and pressed his lips to the side of mine as he took another picture.

My breathing jumped again, but this time it was with a deep, weighing sickness. This was too far. Too much. Too real. "Hey..." I started, reaching for him. "Um-"

"What, you want me to get rid of it?" he asked.

I fidgeted uncomfortably. "No, it's just... like, that's really scary 'cuz I-I don't want people, certain people, I don't want-"

"It's okay," he whispered. I watched, my heart sinking, as he tapped on the trash icon and confirmed to delete.

"You didn't have to do that," I muttered.

"It's still in my trash."

I looked up, and though I was nervous to meet his eyes, I figured I'd chickened out of enough tonight. "You can keep it," I told him. "Just..."

"I don't need it, okay?" He dropped his phone onto his lap and moved his hand to the side of my face, gently brushing my cheek. "All I need is this."

I smiled as he kissed me, locking our lips in the sweetest bond, wrapping my body in his arms like a little present.

"Fuck," he murmured. "I'm not even horny anymore, I just wanna hold you."

"Hold me." He beamed and hugged my waist eagerly while I lowered myself beside him. His breathing was much slower than mine, which relaxed me as our eyes met. "Can I see your other pictures?"

He stretched for his phone. "Under supervision."

I rested my head on his chest as he unlocked it, then opened his photos app and scrolled past the most recent additions of me in various embarrassing poses. I spotted Bobby among his collection, holding up a black mug of something. And Kitty. There were lots of Kitty.

"Wanna see my uncle's house?" he asked.

"Yes," I said briskly.

He took a moment searching for it and finally tilted his screen to show me a huge, like three-triangle-roof-things-huge, gray house. It had a stone walkway leading up to the front door and a long wrap-around porch decorated with colorful hanging flowerpots.

"Wait, this is the farm?" I said.

He laughed. "Yeah."

"I sorta pictured you, like, living in some dirty old barn with some pigs and shit."

"We don't even have pigs," he said.

"Whatever." I stared at the shrubs that lined his porch.

"I wanna move there as soon as I can," he told me. "And that's where I wanna live. Like all my life. Raise my kids there."

I looked up. "You want kids?" Learning that was like a betrayal.

"Well, yeah, eventually," he said with an awkward smile. "Don't you? Once I clean up my act and start making some money, I'll be a great dad. I'll teach 'em to play baseball, take 'em fishing, get 'em their first beer, have 'em driving around in the truck. And I'd love them, no matter what."

"Good then," I said bitterly. "Because you've probably gotten like twenty girls pregnant by now." He elbowed me. "And no, I never wanna be a dad. Babies are disgusting."

Michael shrugged. "It's a part of life, I think. Settle down with someone, start a family. Otherwise you end up sad and lonely."

I ground my teeth down on my jaw. "I don't wanna get married either. Not anymore."

"You have a while before you should worry about it," he murmured. "You're eighteen, right? You have no idea what you're gonna want in ten years."

I stretched back, flexing my stiff shoulder blades. "When's your birthday?" I asked curiously.

He yawned. "December 8th. Not to brag or anything, but it's the same as Nicki Minaj."

"Mine's August 21st."

His eyes widened. "Damn, you really are barely legal."

"That was like a month ago," I said. It wasn't exactly a happy memory, either. Sarah had come over early in the morning to help me start packing for the trip, which I had managed to put off all summer. It was also the last time I'd seen my dad.

"You're a Leo," he commented while I was thinking.

I frowned. "What?"

"Your zodiac sign," he said. "Leos are nuts."

"I don't know anything about that shit," I said.

He chuckled and went back to his camera roll, swiping backward a few times, till he landed on a shot of a furry brown and white collie lying on its side in an enormous bed. "My dog. Her name's Mocha."

"Oh my god!" I squealed. "She looks so soft."

He grinned. "Yeah. She's really old so she just kinda flops there all day. I haven't gotten to see her in a while but I'm going over for Thanksgiving. Had her since she was a puppy. She was just this round ball of fluff."

I peeked at him, his eyes looking lovingly down at the picture, and my heart did a tiny flip. He actually looked like he genuinely cared about something, and it was even more adorable to know that it was this fluffy old dog. I wrapped my arms around his back, leaning on his shoulder. "I always thought it'd be nice to have a dog," I murmured, pushing away the urge to kiss him.

"Why didn't you?" he asked absent-mindedly.

I shrugged. "I dunno, my dad probably- uh... I don't know."

He frowned and reached up, threading his fingers through mine to squeeze my hand. "You can get one when you graduate," he said. "Hell, I'll get you a dog. We can have a little dog family."

I was beginning to have trouble breathing. My chest was full, my heart so heavy I wanted to burst into tears at how in love I felt. "I don't think I'm gonna graduate," I said, ignoring the dog family offer. "I'm really dumb."

"Fair enough," he said.

"Rude," I muttered.

"What kind of puppy should we get?" he asked, and I sucked in my breath. "Mochie's kind of on her last legs so we should probably get a little one. Maybe another collie or a German Shepherd. I think they're fine on farms as well."

I raised my eyebrows. "Oh, this is happening on the farm, huh?"

"Obviously."

Fuck you, I thought. For when you break my heart. Again. After talking about getting fucking puppies.

"You should get some sleep," Michael murmured when I closed my eyes.

I yawned softly, making my nose brush up his cheek. "I'm not tired."

He smiled. "Yes you are. Go to sleep, baby."

"I don't like sleeping," I whispered. "It's scary." A bit heavy, but I figured I may as well get everything out while I currently didn't hate him.

"Oh," he said. "Nightmares?"

I shifted around in his arms. "Yeah. And... I don't know, it's like, being off-guard, I guess. When you sleep, you don't know what's gonna happen. Who's around, who's watching you, you can't protect yourself."

He sighed slightly, his breath warming the back of my ear. "Nothing's gonna hurt you here, I promise."

"I know," I mumbled. It was stupid, and it made me hate myself, but I got scared all the time. Of silly things. A door would open too fast and I would jump.

"I won't let anything bad happen to you," he whispered. "And if you do wake up I'll be right here, okay?"

I nodded. I wanted to believe him, but the last time I'd let myself think that I woke up to the knowledge he had left, hooked up with Meg, and snuck off to buy donuts for some random new girl.

Whatever. He was the best I had for now.

I kissed his collarbone, right over the eagle's wing, and looked up, giggling as he kissed down my jaw softly and rubbed our noses together. "The fuck?" I said, twitching my nostrils like a rabbit when it tickled.

"It's called an eskimo kiss," he said. "It's also what kittens do."

I smiled and pressed the tip of my nose to his, making him smile, then slumped my head down and nuzzled into his chest again. "Goodnight."

"Sweet dreams," he murmured as he crossed his arm over me. I touched his hand and wove my fingers through, watching them slowly rise and fall, clasped together over his heart, until I fell into a drowsy sleep.