Sleeping in is something he had to do to help his body to heal from the rigors of practices and games. It helped to ensure he kept up his stamina for everything else going on, too; filming the podcast, meetings, commercials. He was well aware that his plate is virtually overflowing at the moment and a good night's sleep was just about one of the only things he could do to keep up.
Plus, he really just fucking loved it. Always had.
Something he found kind of funny about the whole thing was how much better he tended to sleep when Taylor was there. It didn't matter if it was at her place or his...no tossing and turning, no waking up in the middle of the night. Having her close must have brought him some internal sense of peace that was missing and he'd rolled with it.
For her part, she was a cuddler, spooning him, her cheek resting on his shoulder, or he would have her in his arms, a hand wrapped around her waist, fingers spread out on both hips. Kayla, as affectionate as she was, didn't like to be held or even touched when she was trying to sleep, so they were always at two opposite ends of the bed.
He'd adapted, but when Taylor had come into his life, it was waking up next to her completely in his space. Her hair could be fanned across his chest because she'd passed out that way or found herself shifting positions during sleep...sometimes he would find them completely intertwined upon waking, limbs wrapped around limbs and he has no fucking clue how it could be comfortable, but there they were.
It had gotten to the point where it was difficult to fall asleep without her next to him, so she'd come up with a solution when they couldn't be together.
He made a concentrated effort to go to bed around the same time during the week and before a game, timing it so that there was the assurance he got at least eight hours, if not slightly more.
"You FaceTime me when you're ready to go to bed and we'll talk and I'll go to sleep over here." She suggested one weekend when they were together.
"That's really sweet, baby, but there's usually a time difference," he reminded her. "I don't want you to have to disrupt what you're doing because I'm an asshole who can't fall asleep without his girlfriend."
"You are the furthest thing from an asshole. Actually, no, I take that back. You're an asshole just for saying you're an asshole."
He laughed. "There you go."
"If I had my way, I'd be there in person or you'd be here," she sighed, "but we have to do what we have to do."
"What about when you go back on tour next month, though? You're not gonna run off stage because it's my bedtime in Missouri."
"Well," she scrunched up her nose in concentration, "you'll be with me the first week, so no problems there. The rest... we'll just have to figure something out."
He leaned over to kiss her softly, to brush back the hair from her forehead. "You've got me down so bad...don't know if you're aware."
Her irises dance, "you're not mad about it, though."
"Not even a little."
Taylor pressed her body against him, moving one leg to drape over his hip, pinning him down.
Going to sleep with her definitely wasn't the only thing he'd miss.
When they got ready for bed that night, he came to the realization they'd fallen into a routine. Taylor would wash her face, they'd brush their teeth side by side in the bathroom and then they would crawl in between the soft sheets...a rich navy blue or forest green when they were in KC, creme or the palest shade of salmon at Taylor's New York house. She liked to tease him about his penchant for a high thread count, but then he had gone and bought her the same sheets, telling her to pick any color she wanted and she admitted he may have been onto something.
