Page 37 of Forked (Frenched 2)
We never did frost the cake that night. Or finish the game. Or empty our glasses. Instead, Nick decided to prove to me how much better the beanbag was than a couch.
And after two hours of panky on it, I had to agree.
Eventually, we made it upstairs, although my leg muscles were so fatigued that I desperately wished for a banister to hold on to. We collapsed onto the bed, both of us on our bellies.
“This is insane,” I said. “I haven’t had this much sex in one day since…” Our wedding day. “Since college.”
Nick laughed. “Me neither.”
“Stop it. Really?”
“Really. But I like it. Maybe we should get married.”
“Haha, very funny.” And yet so not funny. I went to get off the bed but he dragged me back down. “Relax, Coco. I’m kidding.”
“I know,” I lied. “I’m just getting up to brush my teeth.”
“Oh. Yeah, I guess I should go put the cakes away. Hope they’re not all dried out tomorrow.”
“If they are, we can start over.” I ruffled his hair, and he let me. “I like baking with you.”
#
I brushed my teeth, turned out the light, and got under the covers, barely able to keep my eyes open. It had to be one in the morning, I’d been up since six, and I was not a night owl by any means. Nick’s bed was amazingly comfortable, and I fell asleep even before he got back upstairs, waking only when he slid between the sheets, smelling like chocolate and toothpaste.
“You smell like mint chocolate chip ice cream,” I told him sleepily. I opened my eyes to see him turn onto his side, one elbow beneath his head, facing me.
“Still your favorite kind?”
“Yes.”
“Red still your favorite color?”
“Yes.”
“Fall still your favorite season?”
I smiled. “You really do remember a lot of things about me.”
“Told you.”
We lay in the dark, silent for a moment. I wondered if he would sling an arm over me, or what he’d say if I flung a leg over him. It didn’t have to mean anything; I just felt close to him and liked that he would sleep near me tonight. He felt reassuring somehow. Like a forgotten lullaby you hear again years later, the melody taking you back to a time when you felt safe and loved.
He moved his pillow a little closer to mine. “This is nice.”
“Mmhmm.” My eyes drifted shut.
“Poor baby. You’re tired.”
“Mmhmm.” I was already half-asleep when I felt his hand brushing the hair back from my face. A second later his lips rested briefly on mine.
“Night, Coco.”
“Night.”
His hand kept stroking my hair, and a moment later, he spoke again. “Do you ever think about what would have happened if I hadn’t left Vegas?”
“No.” I was so tired, I answered him honestly. I didn’t have the energy to make up a lie. “I don’t let myself.”
