Page 21 of Never Been Shipped

“Ha,” John said. “Seriously.”

But he was thinking about how he didn’t know that he even had an ideal show anymore, couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone to a concert where he hadn’t been playing. Back then, his ideal show had always been getting as close to the stage as possible, less because he cared about that and more because Micah did, and he loved standing next to her and watching the lights play over her face while she sang along to all the lyrics at the top of her lungs.

He stayed for the Silver Cuties’ entire set, and they put on a great show. But there was somethingmissingfrom the entire experience, and the more time John spent on this ship, the less he felt like he was going to be able to pretend he didn’t feel it anymore.

—

It was pastmidnight by the time John quietly let himself back into his room. The darkness was unrelenting the minute the door shut behind him, and so he switched on the bathroom light and cracked the door, hoping it wouldn’t wake Micah up. He could see the shadowy outline of her under the covers, but she hadn’t stirred, which led him to believe she was still asleep.

As much as he’d genuinely wanted her to get rest, he hadn’t really thought all of this through. There was a chair shoved into one corner, barely enough to toss some clothes on, much less for all six feet of John to curl up on tosleep. But he also wasn’t about to just climb into bed next to her without asking her first, even if it washisbed.

He took his time brushing his teeth, changing into the cheesy Batman pajama pants Asa had gotten him for Christmas one year—John had no idea why, when he’d never expressed any particular affinity for Batman. Maybe all his moving around in the bathroom woke Micah up after all, or maybe it was just that she’d already been sleeping for five hours, but by the time he emerged he could see that her eyes were open but still drowsy, staring at him as he stood in the doorway to the bathroom.

“Hey,” he said.

“Johnny,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

The bass for the concert had been loud, and the stage hadtransitioned for a DJ set directly after for those who wanted to keep partying on the first night of the cruise. That must be what John felt in his chest, then, the low reverberations still pounding through his skin and muscle and bone.

He cleared his throat. “How are you feeling?”

She licked her lips like they were dry. “Better. I’m sorry I—”

“Don’t worry about it.” He grabbed her bottled water from where she’d left it on the dresser, handing it to her before retreating to a safe distance at the bathroom doorway.

“Thanks,” she said. When she sat up in bed to take a sip, she held the covers to her chest, but he couldn’t help but notice that her back was bare. Christ, was shenakedunder there?

“They should still be able to get you into your room,” he said. “If you wanted to call down now.”

She looked at him. Her hair was still half in the ponytail she’d lain down with, half pulled out and haloed around her head in wisps that caught the bathroom light. “You want your bed back.”

“I would’ve taken the chair,” he said. “But yeah, now that you’re awake, the bed would be more comfortable.”

“So get in.”

He felt a traitorous twinge in his dick at the very suggestion. If he wasn’t careful, he’dhaveto get under the covers quickly, if for no other reason than to hide his reaction to her. But that was the very definition ofout of the frying pan, into the fire.

“Come on,” he said. “Don’t you have a balcony? Imagine waking up to that view.”

She shifted the covers under her armpits, and he had the sudden thoughtImagine waking up tothatview. Which immediately made him that much more desperate to get her out ofhis room. Hell, if she felt so bad that he hadn’t gotten a balcony, maybe she’d be open to switching.

“I’m really tired,” she said. “And tomorrow is a big day. If you wouldn’t mind…I mean, it’s fine with me, if…can I just stay?”

John had an urge to tell herabsolutely not, to gather up her clothes and march her out of there like a scene out of a soap opera. But he could see how much it had cost her to even ask. And truly it didn’t have to be a big deal, if neither of them made it a big deal. They’d slept together countless times before.

But that was before, he thought, and then he didn’t know what to make of that. Beforewhat?

He switched off the bathroom light, climbing into bed next to her. It was already warm and toasty under the covers from where she’d been wrapped up in them for the past few hours, and her body gave off heat like she’d been charging that whole time. He was cold from being out above deck for so long, and it was tempting to snuggle closer to her, toward that heat source, but he stayed on his edge of the bed.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said again. At this point, he wondered if he knew how to say anything else. Meanwhile all he was doing wasworrying about it.

He tried to put everything from his mind—the nearness of her body, the apparentnakednessof it—and concentrate on getting some sleep. He’d need it. But he was still wide awake when he heard Micah’s voice behind him several minutes later.

“Nice pajama pants,” she said.

He grunted.

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