What If

A recently divorced friend--funny and forward with a bright smile--said she would be passing through town on her way to see family. Could she stay the night at my apartment? She'd bring an air mattress.

I wanted to say yes, but I don't actually have room for an air mattress. I only have a studio, and with my bed and desk and books, there isn't much room for much else.

I wanted her to stay, but I also wanted her to feel safe. I told her she was welcome--but that with the close quarters, she could take the bed, and I would sleep in a chair.

"We'll figure it out," she said.

I had dinner ready when she arrived after a long day of driving. Most of her belongings were in her car. We laughed and remembered and drank wine until it was time to turn in. "Let's just share the bed," she said.

"Are you sure?"

"Settle down." She smiled. "We're both adults."

I tried to stay discreetly on my side of the bed. Falling asleep was difficult. I kept wondering what if:

What if unconsciously during the night we gravitated toward each other, and I awoke with her back pressed against my chest? What if she instinctively pulled me closer to her? What if she felt my hardness pressed against her--and moaned, softly? What if she reached up and put her hand against my cheek?

And what if I--