Page 83 of Bring You Back

“I tried kissingherfirst,” he says with a look at me, a reference to my offhanded advice. Which was more of a criticism. “Told her not to touch the hair, and she listened, but dude.” He shakes his head, face full of horror. “She’swaytoo sweet for me. I don’t know what she does, but it’s like fucking cotton candy down there.” He shivers in disgust. “I like mine a little more … ripe.” Julian and I grimace as Banks continues with, “So, I might’ve gagged a few times and—”

“Stop talking,” I cut him off, holding up another hand, wanting desperately to slam the door on him, but not wanting to do the same to Julian.

Banks opens his mouth to retort, but is cut off again by the sound of another door opening. Naomi steps out in her beige robe, sleepy eyes locking onto ours.

“What’s going on here? Is everything okay?” she asks, mostly with looks directed at just me and Julian.

“Fine, Mom,” Julian says, his tone quiet, almost soft. “Go back to sleep.”

“Just hittin’ the hay,” Banks announces, loud and piercing, on a spin in the direction of the kitchen.Yes, hit the hay with the rest of the barn animals.

“Did someone just leave the house?” Naomi questions Banks as he tries to hurry past her. He stops and spins around with badly acted innocence.

“Nope.”

“Uh huh,” she says, disbelieving, and points at him. “No girls.”

He points back. “No problem.”

I roll my eyes as he hurries back to his side of the house, already smelling the difference.

“Try to get some sleep, you two,” she says to me and her son before retreating back inside her room.

Julian’s eyes lock with mine once more, and I’m thinking—more hoping—that he’s going to finish his previous thought, but he doesn’t. He sighs and leaves to his bedroom, and I close my door.

It’s a start.

When I spin around, my eyes find the nightstand, my thoughts trying to guide my feet toward my sleeping pills. My mouth sours at the lingering taste, always there on my tongue.

Something else. There has to be something else.

Naomi. Sleep radio.

I eye my laptop resting on the chest of drawers and snatch it up before thinking twice. I heave us both onto the bed and power on. It’s a long shot, but it’s a shot.

I open my browser, fingers working the keys, a fast press of A, S, M, and R. Which apparently meansautonomous sensory meridian response. What a mouthful. Let’s hope that translates toa full night’s sleep.

Earbuds in, I head into a quest to find whichtriggersdeliver the coveted tingling sensation.

Good grief. I’m just trying to sleep without pills.

I’m not sure how much time passes as I fall into an ASMR hole. Video after video of pretty hands with pretty nails tapping, scratching, rubbing various surfaces and textures, sweeping fingers and brushes across the screen, and playing with … slime?

I should recommend those ones to Banks. He’d be right at home.

This is all … very interesting.

Who knew someone whispering in my ear could be so soothing.

That’s when I feel them. The tingles. They start in the back of my scalp and radiate down my back. My body emits a shiver, and my eyes fall closed.

I have yet to fall asleep, but I’m relaxed enough to try. I turn off the lamp light and bundle under the covers, laptop to the side. Earbuds still in, I set the autoplay to loop the ASMR videos while I’m—hopefully—under. The problem isn’t alwaysgettingto sleep, it’sstayingasleep.

Which I don’t. I jolt awake to a pounding heart … and a whispering voice, a soft blowing of air at my ear. I close my eyes, hold on to the sound, let it relax me back to sleep.

The next time I awake, it’s daylight. Someone’s tapping against glass in my ear, and I sigh through my relief. I slept. Without pills. I still couldn’t stay asleep, but I remember only waking up once after the first time. And I fell right back under.

It’s a start.

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