Sarah pulled Lizzie close, wrapped them both in sheets that were completely wrecked.
“We should probably talk about this.”
“Tomorrow.” Lizzie’s voice was already sleepy.
“Tomorrow?”
“Right now I just want to hold you. Is that okay?”
“Yeah. That’s more than okay.”
They were quiet then. Just breathing together. Sarah ran her fingers through Lizzie’s hair, still damp from the rain. Lizzie’s hand rested on Sarah’s stomach, thumb moving in small circles.
This was dangerous. Every minute made it harder to pretend this meant nothing. Made it harder to keep the walls up that had protected her for fifteen years.
But Lizzie’s breathing was evening out, her body going soft with sleep. And Sarah couldn’t bring herself to move.
Just tonight. Just let me have tonight.
She closed her eyes and let herself drift, holding Lizzie close, listening to the silence.
For the first time in longer than she could remember, Sarah felt exactly where she was supposed to be.
Chapter 13
Lizzie
Sunlight streamed through the French doors. Lizzie woke up in Sarah’s bed, white sheets tangled around her, the smell of Sarah’s perfume everywhere. Last night had been perfect. More than perfect.
She reached across the bed, looking to hold on to her but only found an empty space. The bed was already cold. She’d been up for a while.
Lizzie frowned and sat up. From the other room, she spotted movement. Lizzie wrapped the sheet around herself and padded out to the kitchen.
Sarah stood at the counter in a navy suit. Hair up in that severe ponytail. Makeup perfect. She was pouring coffee like this was any other morning.
“Morning.”
Sarah glanced up for half a second. “I have a meeting in forty minutes.”
Her voice was different. Cool and professional. Like last night hadn’t happened. Lizzie watched Sarah pull cash from her purse and set it on the counter.
“For an Uber. Or a taxi if you prefer. I’d take you in but the meeting is a breakfast thing downtown. So I’m taking the van. If I can find parking.” She let out a sort of snort that might have been intended as a laugh. She hadn’t looked directly at her yet.
Lizzie stared at the bills. Twenty. Forty. Sixty dollars sitting there between them.
“I’m not someone who needs to be left money. I can make my own way back.”
The words came out harder than she meant them to. Sarah finally looked at her properly.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“What did you mean then?” Lizzie pulled the sheet tighter around herself. “Because last night, I thought—”
“Last night was a mistake.”
The words hit like cold water. She sucked in air, staring at Sarah as if Lizzie was six years old and Sarah had announced Santa wasn’t real.
“A mistake?”
