It was after three in the morning.
Her brain told her she needed to get up. To wake up Ava, to close the laptop, to move to her own—probably really cold—bed. Her body, on the other hand, did not want to move at all.Why?it reasoned. It was warm. Cozy. Not alone. Clearly, Ava felt the same way. Why move?
An internal battle raged. Her brain versus her body, and she feltlike she herself had little say in the matter. She reached down and closed the laptop, completing the darkness of the room. Ava shifted in her sleep, burrowed a bit closer, and didn’t wake up.
Regan’s eyes grew heavy while she debated what to do, and somewhere deep in her mind, she knew the decision before it was even made.
She drifted back to sleep.
Chapter Eleven
Ava loved the feeling of having gotten a great night’s sleep. It didn’t happen often, if she was honest. A lot of the time, work left her wired, and she had a hard time turning her brain off enough to fall asleep. Sometimes, she got less than five hours a night for several nights in a row. Not a healthy way to live. She’d tried sleep aids, but they left her too groggy to function the next day, so she made do as best she could during her shifts and tried to catch up on sleep on her days off.
She’d struggled at the retreat as well, mostly because the timing was all off. She was used to going to sleep in the early morning hours and staying in bed until ten or eleven. But here, things down in the work kitchen started by nine, so she needed to be up by seven thirty or so. Plus, some of the other girls kept bakery hours, which meant they were up before the sun, Regan included.
As she lay in bed now and slowly let herself swim up to the surface from her very deep, very restful sleep, she recalled the previous night. Regan had been good company, which surprised her—though it probably shouldn’t have. People seemed to like Regan. She was a nice person. And it was really thoughtful of her to sit and watch episodes ofWhisk Me Awaywith her, knowing how shitty Ava’s day had been. She was grateful for that.
She was on her back and stretched her leg.
It hit another leg.
A leg that was not hers.
Oh God.
She stilled. Afraid to open her eyes, she replayed the previousnight once more and realized she had no recollection of it ending. No memory of finishing an episode, closing the laptop, saying good night to Regan, watching her walk back to her own bed.
Oh God.
A weight suddenly settled in her chest over the realization, but weirdly, alsoonher chest. Still afraid to move, she forced herself to open her eyes, and there it was: a head of brown hair highlighted with gold streaks pillowed on her chest just below her chin. She could smell the watermelon scent of it, feel the warmth of the rest of Regan’s body, specifically the arm that was thrown across Ava’s midsection. Regan shifted just slightly in her sleep, and that arm slid along her skin where her shirt had ridden up a bit, causing a throbbing to begin low in her body.
Could she get out of this? Could she slip out of the bed without waking Regan? Because then, maybe she’d never know.
She was also being ridiculous. So they fell asleep. Together. Practically on top of each other. That happened all the time, didn’t it? Totally normal. It was all totally normal. Right?
A snort escaped before she could catch it, and Regan stirred. Ava held herself still and waited.
Regan inhaled deeply through her nose—that sound of just waking up—and Ava could feel her giving her body a gentle stretch. And then she froze. Did she stop breathing altogether? Kinda felt like she did. Ava didn’t move. She waited.
Slowly, Regan lifted her head from Ava’s chest and turned it until their eyes met.
Ava swallowed at the sight of tousled, sleepy Regan, whose blue eyes went wide. “Morning,” Ava said, and her voice was hoarse. She cleared her throat.
“Hey,” Regan responded. “Um…” She pushed herself off Ava until she was in a sitting position. She seemed to notice Ava’s laptop at the foot of the bed and reached for it. “Don’t want this to fall,” she said with a shrug and handed it to Ava while avoiding her eyes.
“Thanks.” Without Regan’s arm pinning her down, Ava sat up, too. She heard Regan swallow, and part of her was glad to know that even though she hadn’t said as much, Regan was clearly as freaked as she was by their situation that morning. She said quickly, “Um, I’mgonna take a shower. Do you wanna—” She indicated the bathroom with her chin.
“Oh. Yeah. Yes. Thanks.” And Regan jumped off the bed like Ava had used a cattle prod on her and hurried to the bathroom so fast, Ava wondered if her feet even touched the floor. The door clicked closed.
“Not awkward at all,” she muttered as she slid out of bed and grabbed her clothes for the day. Regan was out of the bathroom in record time, didn’t look at her, and they scurried past one another. Once Ava was safely ensconced and the door was locked, she leaned on it with both hands and let out a long, slow breath, absently wondering if she’d been breathing at all since she’d opened her eyes.
When the water was as hot as she could stand it, she stepped under the spray, turned her face to it, and stood there. Just stood there for a long moment. What she wanted to do was scream, but as there were no pillows available in the bathtub, she settled for nearly scalding herself as she did some quiet pep talking.
“So you fell asleep,” she whispered to herself. “So what? It’s not like you had drunken sex or something.”
Wait, what? What was her brain trying to do to her?No. No way. That is a visual I do not need, thank you very much. Nope, we are shutting that line of thinking right down. Now. Right now.
She turned her attention to scrubbing. She scrubbed her skin hard. Too hard, really. She just wanted to keep her mind on something other than how nice it had felt to have Regan curled up against her while she slept. How she’d been warm and comfortable and content.
