Zak lay there, watching the numbers tick on the clock on his bedside table. Nick’s body was nestled snugly behind him, one arm thrown over, forehead buried in the back of his neck. But he knew it wouldn’t last.
I’ve been sitting here staring at the clock on the wall
And I’ve been laying here praying, praying she won’t call
Soft lips met his shoulder blade as Nick shifted. “You ok?” he whispered sleepily.
Zak sighed. “I don’t want you to leave tonight.”