Theresa "Tess" Servopoulos

From this thread.


Joel's head is heavy in her lap, his cheek against her thigh and his forehead almost against her stomach. His breath is a hot tickle on her skin, on the place where her tank top has ridden up and her pajama pants don't quite reach. She feels his every sleepy exhale though her thigh, watches his chest rise and fall in rhythm. He smells of soap and whiskey and some new citrus-and-spice cologne.

They drank a lot.

( The urge to cling to him... )