Page 65 of Between the Lines

Fia stirs but doesn’t wake up, so I reach for my phone. It’s three in the morning.

I have two options: lie here until it’s a reasonable time to get up, let Fia discover that we fell asleep like this, and deal with the repercussions—awkward tension at work, me having to disclose my feelings, her possibly feeling uneasy here . . .

Or I sneak out.

Hamburger’s eyes glow from the other side of the living room while the TV plays some infomercial. But as I slowly roll to the side, trying to shift Fia from lying on top of me to lying on the sofa, she blinks awake.

I didn’t make it very far; our faces are still inches from each other, her lips so close to mine I could simply tip down my head to taste them.

No, get that thought out of your head.

She has to see the panic in my eyes, but she doesn’t move.

“I’m sorry,” she rasps out.

There’s no way she can’t feel my heart beating through my thin shirt, especially where her chest is pressed against mine.

“It’s okay,” I whisper, our gazes locked. “You were tired . . . I didn’t want to wake you.”

Fia’s eyes widen, like she suddenly realizes how close we are, like she’s just coming out of a dreamy state, and she rolls back, sitting up abruptly.

“I’m going to head home.” I stand, grabbing my phone, and she remains on the sofa, legs tucked up, hair messy, looking like a fever dream.

“Yeah, sounds good,” she replies, face bright red.

I should never have moved.

I should’ve stayed right where I was, stayed awake and appreciated the feel of her body against mine. I might never have it again.

Outside, I inhale the cool night air, and though this should feel like a walk of shame back to my house, I don’t feel any shame.

In fact, I feel something that scares me even more . . .

I want to do it again.

26

Fia

From her high chair in front of me, Daisy picks up little pieces of cut strawberry, pinching each one between her fingers before eating it.

“I promise we are all good. She will be back on Monday,” I reassure Luanne before hanging up the phone.

Like I predicted, I had to call off work today. Daisy is still fighting an ear infection, and I woke up feeling hungover.

It could be the mere five hours of sleep I got, or it could be the entire pint of ice cream I ate before crashing out.

Or it could be the fact that I woke up with Caden’s palm resting on my ass.

Or it could be the fact that I liked it. Or how I hated it when he left.

“We need to get out, get some sunshine,” I say to Daisy, glancing around the messy guesthouse.

I’ve said this to her three times this morning, hoping it will build my courage to actually do so. Because the moment I step out the door, I could run into my grumpy boss who happens to be not actually that grumpy but kind of sweet and thoughtful and definitely a good cuddler.

My cheeks flush just thinking about my chest on his.

I shiver, shake out my limbs, and turn to fill the sippy cup with water before we walk outside.