I'm drawn in against myself.

“Haven't slept yet?”

I hop off the sofa. “Milo! I was shocked.”

He enters the kitchen and grabs a glass. “Sorry. I didn't sleep.” He indicates the glass. “Beverage?”

“Sure.” I frown as he pours two whiskey cups. “You'll sleep”

“Maybe.” He sits down next me. Every other time, he'd switch chairs or place a pillow between us. His weight pulls down my cushion and slides me toward him. “Here.”

I don't know where the line is because I want to get onto his lap.

He doesn't sleep as well as Darren, so I'd see him . We've drank and spoken before, but never like...