Chapter 8 Differences in Sexual FunctionA couple of hours of tossing, turning, punching all four of the bed’s pillows into different shapes—because screw it, if Drew was spending the night out in the woods and leaving me here to brood alone, at least I could have as many pillows as I wanted—and jumping at every rustle, creak, and shadow, I gave up and reached over to click on the bedside lamp.I shot a hostile glare at the pillows as I rolled out of bed. Four of them, and they’d still let me down, the little assholes.Fine, sleep wasn’t in the cards, and lying in bed obsessing over everything that had happened that evening, and everything that could still happen, obviously wouldn’t accomplish much.I needed a plan, and for that I needed information.The living room’s giant windows made me feel like a helpless little fish in a bowl surrounded by predators, so I grabbed the laptop I’d been using, made a cup of tea, and headed back upstairs to do my research in bed.And then I sat the
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