Page 75 of Rebound With Me
Russell shushes her.
Nina’s holding her breath, until we hear their footsteps go all the way to the end of the hall. It’s quiet again.
“I actually feel bad for the guy.”
She nods. “I think I need to go to sleep,” she says, sounding genuinely apologetic. “Sorry. It’s just hitting me how tired I am.”
“It’s nine-thirty.”
“I know, I just…I haven’t gotten that much sleep since I met you.” She’s grinning. “I’m not complaining, believe me. I guess it’s just catching up with me. During the school year I’m in bed by ten, you know.”
Those words, “During the school year.” She might as well say: “When you’re not a part of my life.”
She puts her hand on the side of my face and kisses me. “Do you mind?”
“Course not. I’ll read in bed beside you. If you don’t mind me keeping the lamp on.”
She smiles. “I don’t. I’d like that, actually.”
It’s the first time we’ve gone to bed without fucking first. Although, yes, we did it multiple times today already, but still. I’m all for domesticity, if that’s what this is a preview of, but something ain’t right.
* * *
When I wake up, Nina is standing at the window, looking out at the rain.
Perfect.
“Morning.”
She keeps looking out the window. “It’s raining,” she says, ominously.
“I’m sure it won’t last long.”
“My weather app disagrees with you.”
“Sounds like you should come back to bed.”
She half-smiles. “I was thinking we should get breakfast in the lobby while they’re still serving it.”
“Okay. I’ll get up. Can we bring it back here?”
“Probably. If that’s what you want.”
“Is that what you want?”
“I guess. Let’s see what it’s like when we’re down there.”
“Yeah. Let’s do that.”
Fuck me. It’s like we just fast-forwarded three years into the relationship. Not that I’d really know what that’s like. Right now I would do anything to take back everything that happened from the second Sadie invited us to dinner on. Except for the sex part.
We bring our breakfast back up to the room, and Nina has her Rainy Day playlist streaming on her Spotify app. I hate listening to music from a phone, but it’s so cute that she has playlists based on weather that I do not complain.
I stare at her as she eats her buttered toast, watching her lick her lips, and even though we’re at a resort in upstate New York this feels like home to me. I just don’t know how to say that to her without it sounding totally cornball gross.
She looks up and sees me staring at her. “What?” She wipes her lips with the back of her hand.
“You know, if you ever want to stay in and chill, I mean back home, just tell me. I’d be fine with that.”
