What the fuck were we doing? I was gathering my courage and trying to line up syllables, put my good words in a row, when I heard Shea’s soft snore. He’d fallen asleep on me. Literally on me, his head on my chest, using me like his pillow—again—one hand even curled into the fabric of my shirt over my belly. He’d kicked his legs up at some point, and he was all snug and content on my couch. On me.
😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺
