That was that.
Once it was all done, we finally turned off the showerheads and stepped out together. I kept a firm grip on all the safety bars, not wanting this to end with disaster, and Ireland dried me thoroughly before letting me do the same to her.
The music was still going, but we could actually hear it now as we stood in front of the double vanity, wrapped in towels.
“What’s this song?” I asked, noticing her attention on my phone.
“‘Adieux’by Ludovico Einaudi,” she said tiredly, the day catching up with her.
I gripped her hips and lifted her onto the vanity. Stroking her back with one hand, I plugged in her hair dryer with the other. I picked up her brush and combed through her wet strands, then got to work drying them, working the brush under small sections.
When I was done, she smiled softly at me and cocked her head as she reached for the dryer.
“Nah,” I said, handing her a towel instead. “Just give me a good rubbin’.”
She snorted, but after all we’d just done, I couldn’t even blush at my unfortunate word choice. It was just one in a long line of them at this point.
“Your place or mine?” I asked once we went through the rest of our routines and had no more reasons to linger.
She glanced between our doors, a little energy coming back into her posture. “Less chance of an unwelcomed visitor at mine.”
I huffed a laugh. “True. Meet you there?”
She nodded, and with one last lingering look, she disappeared from view. I scooped up my sleeve and boot, thanking the heavens I didn’t need to sleep in it. My ankle was healing well—ahead of schedule according to the doctor.
I slipped on some boxers and applied the lip balm Ireland got me before grabbing my pillow, phone, and charger. Figuring I’d given her enough time, I walked through the bathroom to Ireland’s door.
I paused at the threshold, realizing I’d never actually been inside her room.
Huh.
Didn’t matter all that much now, since I could barely see anything in the darkness.
“Ireland?” I called quietly, easing inside.
She was already under the covers, her back to me.
It felt wrong.
Shutting the door quietly behind me, I rounded the bed and set my things on the empty nightstand.
“Is here good?” I whispered, gesturing to the spot beside her.
She nodded, her eyes only just visible in the dark room.
I put my glasses on the stand next, then set my pillow down like a claim and peeled back the covers before sliding into bed with her.
Then I just lay there, facing her. It was the mirror image of what we’d done for so many nights now that I’d almost lost count.
“Hi,” she whispered.
I pushed my hair off my face, then rested my cheek on my palm. “Hi. So, this is him, huh?”
“Him?”
I smoothed my hand across the bed, under the covers, seeking her warmth. “The guy you keep running off to see. The one you were desperate for.”
She laughed, and I smiled to myself when I found her bent knees and smoothed a finger over her kneecap. “What’s up, Indigo Girl?”
