I don't remember much of the details on the drive to New Braunfels, except that we talked pretty much all the way up on a variety of things. We got to New Braunfels and found a hotel. . . and a situation that made me wonder. The clerk at the desk asked us how many beds? I said two. I really didn't care that much - at that point I wasn't really opposed to one - but I didn't know what Alex thought on the matter, and I didn't want him worrying about having to fend off some overly aggressive chick. Alex said one. One bed was cheaper. I thought about it and said "okay."

'I really didn't really know what he had in mind when he made that offer, if he was thinking of something else in addition to simply cutting expenses. But I figured that a guy who'd volunteered to sleep on the floor would be a gentleman about respecting my wishes, on the off chance that he might be interested in something that I wasn't, whether we were in the same bed or not. I'm not generally this laid-back about accepting invitations to share a guy's bed, but I have a good instinct for this kind of thing, and I really didn't think with Alex that I'd be putting myself in harm's way. Hell, if I didn't trust him, I wouldn't have accepted his offer of driving me to New Braunfels, much less sharing a room with him.

We made our way upstairs to the room, and I was just wiped. Evidently Alex was too, 'cause he was stretched out on top of the bed for a nap practically before I could set my stuff down. Hmm. I'd forgotten that double beds were so small. So much for sprawling across the bed while taking my nap - didn't want to invade his space or anything. I crawled onto the bed to go to sleep and made sure I stayed on my half of it. I remember talking to him and almost literally falling asleep mid-sentence, I was so tired. I was vaguely aware that he was watching me sleep, but was out before I could think much more about it. I also remember half-waking at some point, feeling him laying close by but not touching, and wishing I could lean back against him, just for the comfort of touch, of affection. Just that. I'm not like that with most people, but Alex seemed like one of those rare few whom I could be comfortable with. I don't remember consciously thinking that at the time, though; I just remember wanting to be close to him, wanting the touch. And, of course, being too much the chickenshit to come out and say that, or do anything about it. Argh.

We got up in a bit and met Cathy and John for dinner. Hole-in-the-wall barbecue, yum. I don't exactly remember what the four of us talked about, except I do recall Alex at one point talking about his writing. I always find it fascinating to hear what people who do some kind of creative work - in the sense of actually creating something new and original, be it music, art, writing - have to say about it and the whole process of making something from nothing, so I was curious, both about that and Alex himself. At that point, I was still in the process of sizing him up and figuring out exactly what I thought about him. I do know that somewhere in that conversation, the thought that settled out of the murk swirling around in my brain was that were he to want to kiss me, I would be quite amenable to that. I really wasn't thinking much beyond that, just that I liked him enough to act on the feeling, and if nothing happened beyond that, well, I could still enjoy kissing the guy for what it was worth. I say "if nothing happened"; truly, there wasn't much of an "if" in my mind. I didn't expect things to go anywhere. In retrospect, I should have known better. I don't kiss people easily or casually. The fact that I was considering even that with him should have tipped me off.

The four of us finally met up with Kev and Callie at the bar for the Dead End Angels show. Alex wound up sitting across the table from me, as opposed to next to me, and I remember feeling a bit disappointed. But the show was damned good, and I didn't dwell on that. There was one point there when the band played Alejandro Escoveda's "Last to Know," and I remember twisting around to look at him. I'd liked the song from the first I'd heard it, and I'd learned from out e-mails that it was one of his favorites as well, which I'd found interesting, given the subject matter - "We fall in love and it's never funny, and we're the last, the very last, to know." I'm not sure why I looked back at him, or if he even noticed. I just know that I did that. The other funny thing I recall from our time at the bar was a conversation I had with Callie and Cathy. It was just we three girls, I don't know where the guys had gotten to, and Cathy was worrying aloud about my sharing a room with Alex. Was I sure I was comfortable with that, and if I wasn't, did I want to share hers and John's room? I opened my mouth to speak, and Callie beat me to the punchline, saying something to the effect that I was a big girl, and that Alex was a good guy, and Cathy needn't particularly worry. For some reason that amused me. Apparently, whatever I was thinking about liking Alex wasn't evident to her or to Callie. Well, maybe Callie, I don't know. She doesn't miss much. In any case, I reassured Cathy that I was okay with sharing a room with Alex, though I don't think she was convinced of that and was still worried about me.

Leaving the bar with Alex to go back to the hotel felt. . . weird. The others in the group, Kev and Callie, John and Cathy, were leaving in pairs to go back to their respective rooms, the appropriate couple thing to do. And then there were Alex and I, walking off to get in his car and drive back to our room, like all the other couples. . . except that we weren't, really. It felt sort of like kids trying to play grown-up. Once we got to the hotel, things felt stranger still. Another sign that should have tipped me off. If we were just two friends crashing in the same bed, why the big deal? As I've said, sharing sleeping quarters with the opposite sex isn't something that throws me, and I absolutely wasn't worried about Alex trying to push me into doing anything of a more-than-friendly nature that I didn't want to do. Again, if I were worried about that, I'd not have agreed to share a room with him. And besides, at this point, I was pretty well unopposed to the thought of curling up with him - literally sleeping with him, if you will.