“Don’t think I’m dropping this subject. What about his pulse?” Her tone changes to professional.
I check his neck and count the beats. “Seems steady and normal.”
“Did he hit his head?”
“No, he half landed on the couch.” He’s lucky he did. He half sits on the floor, leaning his torso on the bottom of the couch. His head hangs on the side at an almost painful angle.
“On the couch on the way to your bedroom?” Freya asks as Alex chuckles.
“Freya!”
"Right, right. His pulse is fine; he didn't hit his head. He’s fine. Just let him sleep it off.” And just like that, she’s lost interest again.
“Are you sure? That fall didn’t look fine.” I keep replaying it in my head on a constant repeat.
"He is fine, I promise. For insomniacs, it's a normal part of their lives, no matter how sad it sounds. As long as they don't get injured during the fall, they're fine." There is zero concern in her voice, which makes me feel better.
“Okay.”
“Do you want me to come over?” She offers, but I know she’d rather stay in her cozy bed with her hunky boyfriend. “Alex can come and drag Justin’s ass out if you want. He can haul him away to his place.” I hear Alex’s“I can? Leave the fucker there.”
I chuckle; it's so Alex. "No, it's fine."
“He can be there for a while. It might take twelve hours for him to restore. Or even longer. I’m not sure how long he went without sleep this time.”
“It’s okay, Freya. Really. I appreciate it, but I’ll be fine.” I say with a sigh.
“Okay. Call me if you need us. Anytime.” She tells me while unsuccessfully trying to suppress a yawn.
“Thank you, to both of you. Night!”
“Wait! Are you”
“Night, guys!” And I hang up on her. There’s no way I can survive an interrogation now, and that's undoubtedly what was about to follow; I just know it.
I look at Justin. His mouth is slightly open, his breathing is even, and his head is still at a weird angle. There’s no way I could drag his muscular ass on the couch, so I grab pillows from my bed and lay them next to him on the floor. Then I carefully lower his torso on them and adjust his legs, so they don't bend unnaturally. He looks almost vulnerable like that. Almost. A little drool comes out of the corner of his mouth, and eff me, but I find it adorable. His chest rises and falls. And what a chest it is. So pronounced and so developed. Those perfect smooth globes. I saw something similar only on Alex, but Alex is a monster of a man. On Justin, it looks proportioned and well-defined. There are no hairs. None. Only a blond happy trail down his navel. It was so close to making me happy today, too.
I stop my pervert-ish ogling and go to grab a comforter for him. I tuck him in, push pillows deeper under his head and shoulders, so he's comfortable, and admire my work—and his figure—for a while longer before going back to sleep.
* * *
I wake up when the sun is already high in the sky. I don’t like to sleep in, but today can be excused. I dread getting out of bed to see if my night guest is still here. I try to peek at the couch from my bed; I live in a trailer,hello,everything’s reachable from one spot.
The big body's still on the floor in the same position I left it. I stand up and go to brush my teeth as quietly as possible. I wash my hair and put some mascara on since that’s what I do every day when I wake up alone, duh. A very regular thing for me on my day off when I plan on staying at the trailer in my pajamas, right.
I come out to the living room—yes, I consider it a living room, it's tiny, but it's there—and Justin's still asleep. I start a pot of coffee, drink it, and Justin's still asleep. Today is my rare day off, and I'm not planning to stay here all day. Even if the view is great.
I blow dry my hair, get dressed, and Justin’s still asleep. I check his breathing and his pulse—he seems fine, so I leave him be and go outside. I don’t have any particular plans, but my personal space is occupied now. I wait on people all day, allweek, so on my day off, I want to be as far away from them as possible. The only person I might tolerate today is Freya, but she'd bombard me with questions I don't have answers to, so I'm in a bit of a jam here. Just when I’m about to go back inside, my phone rings.
“Hi, TJ.”
“’Sup, Kay. The guy who ordered that huge phoenix piece from you will be here in a couple of hours. He wanted to see what else you have.”His smoked-up voice sounds excited.
“Oh, wow. I can send you a few pieces I have now.”
“Nah, I think it’s better if you come here yourself.”He urges me.
“Why?” I usually don’t deal with clients directly; all my designs go through TJ.
