Page 67 of Last Night Was Fun

“No, you won’t because you’ll be uncomfortable all night, and I’ll be up hereworryingabout how uncomfortable you are all night, and neither of us will get any sleep. Get up here.” She scooted back and started building a barrier down the bed’s middle. “I’ll make a wall if that makes it better. We can call down for more pillows.”

“I don’t think there are enough pillows in the world...” he muttered. He was still on the floor, and she could hardly hear him over the sound of rearranging the bedding.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. I’ll be fine down here.”

She finished building her barricade and reached over to snatch the blanket off him.

“Hey!” he called.

“Olson! Stop being such a stubborn ass and get up here!”

His head popped up at the bedside. He eyed her pillow wall with suspicion. She’d constructed it on top of the sheets and climbed into her side of the bed already.

“It’s the best I can do,” she said, and pointed at it. “Your side; my side. Now, let’s sleep. We’re going to need all our energy tomorrow to prevent Bridezilla Meltdown.”

He eyed the pillows with another moment of hesitation and then decided he was satisfied. “I’ve heard those are the worst meltdowns,” he said, climbing onto the bed.

“Life-threatening, really.” Emmy felt the mattress dip under his weight. She rolled slightly toward the middle of the bed where the pillows stopped her. “See? Already working.” She patted the wall.

He’d settled on top of the sheets and curled onto his side facing away from her. “Good night, Jameson.”

“Good night, Olson.” She clicked off the light and plunged them into darkness.

Emmy’s heart nervously thrummed as they settled into the silence. She was acutely aware of him beside her. She could hear every breath, feel every movement. It took a fair amount of time for her heart to eventually calm into a relaxed rhythm. Sleep had almost pulled her under when his voice softly called her back.

“Emmy?”

The sound snapped her out of her haze. Her whole body became alert again as if he’d flipped a switch inside her. “Yeah?”

“Can I please have a blanket? It’s really cold in here.”

“Oh!” she said with an embarrassed laugh, not having realized she’d hogged them all. “Yes. Sorry. I turned the AC all the way down when I got here earlier.” She removed the blanket she’d stolen from him and threw it over to his side.

“Thank you.”

She listened to him settle beneath it and considered suggesting he climb under the covers with her. But that might have been one step too far into a direction they’d never be able to turn back from.

“Good night, Gabe,” she said.

“Good night, Emmy.”

The next morning, Emmy woke alone. She wondered if it had all been a dream, but the pillow wall was still intact, and Gabe’s side of the bed was neatly made up with the blanket. His phone was gone from the nightstand and in its place, a piece of hotel stationery with a word scrawled in his familiar handwriting.

Running.

She reflexively rolled her eyes, because of course he would get up at—she turned to check the clock—8a.m. on his first day of vacation to go for a run. She had half a mind to pull the sheet over her head and sleep off her sugary sweet hangover for two more hours. But she quickly realized his absence meant she had free rein to use the bathroom without worrying about sharing, and that might have been exactly why he’d gone out for a run.

Not wanting to waste the opportunity, she threw back the sheet and quickly padded into the bathroom. The icy floor made her both shiver and thankful that she’d convinced Gabe to sleep in the bed for fear he would have frozen to death on the marble. She basically ran through a steaming shower and took care of all necessary business in record time. She’d just flipped off the blow-dryer when she heard a knock at the door.

She walked into the hall to peer out the peephole and saw Gabe on the other side.

“Forget your key?” she asked in greeting when she opened the door.

She almost staggered back at the sight of him in a tight gray tee,black shorts, and a pair of red running shoes. Sweat clung to the ungelled hair around his face, flipping it out in chaotic little curls. Dashes of rosy pink colored his cheeks. He towered over her where she stood barefoot.

“Hey. No,” he said, slightly winded, and swiped a hand through his damp hair. She saw his key right there on his wrist next to his smartwatch. “I just wasn’t sure what you’d be doing in here and didn’t want to barge in.” He glanced at her outfit and softly smiled. “But I see you’ve taken advantage of being alone.”