“Charlie, I’m tired.” Maggie’s voice made her sound like a bored student asking her teacher to be excused for a bathroom break. She drew closer to him on the sofa, put her arms around him. “Tell me the rest tomorrow?”
Charlie buried his disappointment beneath his bearded smile. “‘Course.” He shifted his weight, put his arms around her. “You stayin’?”
A grin roused up onto her face, as their hands drifted down each other’s back. “Said I was tiiii – errrrrrd.” She winked, and Charlie saw in her eyes the same teasing playfulness he heard in her voice.
He leaned into her, kissed her quickly on her lips. She squealed, drew back, then launched her body into his. Falling back onto the sofa, Charlie’s left leg kicked out and knocked over the plastic bowl of ice cream Maggie had just brought over for him, the yellow-white liquid spilling and spreading unevenly onto the floor as it melted.
An hour later, Maggie lay on her stomach on the left side of Charlie’s bed, her face turned in his direction. He sat up, watched her body rise and fall slowly and rhythmically in the steady breath of sleep. A single thin sheet draped over her back; knowing that her body would cool over the course of the autumn night, he pulled a blanket over her.
He usually fell asleep before Maggie after sex, but he knew his brain was too active now to allow him rest. And he knew exactly why. They had lost themselves in the physicality of their bed play — Maggie was by far the most aggressive lover he had ever experienced, a fact he greatly appreciated — but with her now laying spent on his bed, he could not prevent his mind from remembering that he had left Mike’s story about the Sleeping Jaywalker unfinished.
Charlie swung his legs over the bed, stood up quickly. Maggie stirred, then her body relaxed, resumed its steady sleep breathing. Charlie walked into the living area of the trailer his parent’s owned, the cool air striking his body barely covered in white underpants and gray t-shirt.