Within fifteen minutes, Alex is dead to the world, breathing slowly, the pained wrinkle between his eyebrows smoothed away, and Eli is sleepy enough to consider staying. Alex is warm and solid beside him, and Alex wouldn’t mind, he doesn’t think; he might even like it, if Eli stayed. He could stay. If he wanted. And that’s the problem. Eli carefully rolls off the bed and retreats to the guest room. He doesn’t stay because he wants to just a little too badly.
