Hutch moved back to his own place. Damn, but I miss him.

I think he misses me, too. He’s over here nearly every evening after work, bringing beer and food. Once in a while he lets me cook.

The other night, he’d had one too many beers and had slumped over onto my shoulder on the sofa.

I cuddled right into him. I couldn’t help it. He muttered and snorted and got comfortable.

It was the best sleep I’d had in a long time, even sittin’ up all night like that.

Next morning he just smiled.

I smiled right back.

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