Page 122 of Lost Track

On the plane they hadn’t rested or slept at all. Instead, they’d spent the ninety-minute flight playing quarters, telling stories, and chugging water.

Back in the city, she’d offered to have him sleep there for a few hours before going home in the afternoon. Or whenever they woke up.

And instead of sleeping on the couch likehe offered, Sabine had asked him to stay in her bed with her.

She groaned, remembering how he’d been very polite with his desire to stay on the couch and she’d made a fuss about hating to asleep alone.

Shedidhate to sleep alone but that was asecret!

She washed her hands and frowned at herself in the mirror.

Wow, girl, you’re a mess.

She washed her face, brushed her teeth, and reapplied deodorant.

On one hand she wanted to stay awake, make some food, take a shower, pretend like she was on top of her life again instead of…

Well, instead of reality.

Which was that she had a slight hangover, she was exhausted, had blisters on her feet from dancing in high heels, and a hot guy in her bed. Maybe she could snuggle back under his arm and sleep away all her insecurities.

Side note: when had she started thinking about Dave as being hot?

That was something she’d have to talk about with herself later.

She left the bathroom and went back to her bed.

Because she was only so strong.

Carefully she lifted the covers and slid back inside. Dave lifted his head and gave her a sleepy smile.

Her heart flipped over.

Oh no.

It wouldn’t be so bad if she didn’t remember with perfect clarity how amazing he’d been to her all weekend. He’d made her laugh so much that her stomach still hurt. And his ease and lack of anxiety when he was on stage really upped his hotness.

Then there’d been the dancing, and the intense eye contact, and his small touches all night long.

She was in so much trouble.

He rolled the opposite direction and got out of bed. He was in boxer briefs. Black ones.

Whoa, Nelly.

She curled around her pillow and closed her eyes.

He grabbed her foot on his way around the bed and gave it a little squeeze.

If she had her days right, it was midafternoon on Sunday. Kara was at work already and wouldn’t be home until late.

They could spend the rest of the day doing nothing.

Maybe she’d order pizza or something.

But for the moment, all she wanted was sleep and to live a little longer in the fairytale that had begun the day before.

She tried to not notice the water running in the bathroom longer than just handwashing. She tried to tell herself he wasn’t freshening his breath for any particular reason. She tried not to feel the butterflies thrumming in her stomach.

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