My eyes so badly want to watch her walk up those stairs and think about her in my shower.
Don’t do it, Holland.
Ivy has settled in on the couch, after taking a shower, and Slate is already resting his sleeping head on her thigh.
I sit near her legs and turn the TV on.
“I have to check my work email quick,” Ivy says, phone in hand.
“No problem. I’ll find something for us to watch,” I reply like I don’t know what I’m going to play.
She lets out a loud sigh. Whatever’s in her inbox has her visibly annoyed.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Just Jack. Doing what he does best. Annoying me. I’m turning this off.” She puts her phone face down.
I hit play and it takes a minute for her to realize.
“Oh look! It’s the second-best Spider-Man franchise.” She pokes fun but sinks further into the couch, and Slate snuggles in a little closer.
We get thirty minutes into the movie before Ivy is asleep. She’s on her side. Her knees are pulled into her chest, where Slate also sleeps. I grab a blanket and drape it over her and the dog. She moves a little bit and ends up putting her feet in my lap so I make surethey’re covered up.
I’m alternating between Andrew Garfield and sneaking glances at this woman sleeping on my couch.
Even though I shouldn’t, I let my mind wander. I think about yesterday and how it seamlessly flowed into today. Effortless. Like she fits here.
Except she doesn’t. She lives a thousand miles away and is going back home in a few days. I always knew this, but at this moment, it’s important to remind myself. She has a life back in a place I couldn’t bring myself to go back to. Anger creeps up my neck and my skin is hot. I hate how my mind jumps too many steps ahead.
I steal one more look in time to see Ivy readjust herself, pet Slate, and smile in her sleep.
Yeah. This is a bad idea.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I HAVE NO IDEA where I am. My face is pressed into a leather couch, blanket around me, and a warm, gray body sleeps close to mine. My eyes dart around the space, trying to fill in the blanks.
Holland sits next to me, my feet in his lap and the last few minutes of the movie is playing.
Pretending my sleeping situation isn’t awkward, I stretch my arms over my head. “Such a good movie,” I say, careful not to disturb the still-sleeping Slate. My voice is heavy with sleep, and I wipe my mouth to make sure I didn’t spend the last two hours drooling on this beautiful couch. The dog wakes up and stretches.
Holland laughs and I pull my feet back, setting them on the floor and sitting up. I can’t remember the last time I took a nap. I used to love a quick weekend nap but somewhere along the way, I started feeling guilty for not being productive.
“I’ll get you some water.” Holland goes to the kitchen and brings back a glass of water. I practically inhale the first glass and he smirks before getting me another.
“I don’t ever remember being this tired from walking.” My muscles are tight from the hike. Or maybe the awkward sleeping position.
“I told you.” Holland makes a tsk tsk gesture with his wagging finger.
I look at the clock. It’s much later than I thought. “I didn’t mean to monopolize your entire day.”
He shakes his head like it’s no big deal. Taking his phone out of his pocket, which is the first time I’ve seen him with it, he shows me the screen. It’s a picture of Slate and I sleeping. It’s adorable and my heart melts a little.
“Will you send me that?”
He gives me the phone so I can save my number. This feels like something. More than sharing information so I can get a picture. A few seconds later, the picture comes through.
I save his number in my phone as “Holland-not-Tom” and show him. He rolls his eyes like he doesn’t like it. I can’t help but grin.
