I exhale slowly through my nose.
"Good morning, Tom."
"Good morning, Sam."
I sit up, pushing the blanket aside. I need to move. Coffee. Something to do with my hands.
"What time is it? I can't see the clock past all these clothes."
He laughs. "Seven twenty. Want to grab some coffee? Maybe breakfast?"
"Desperately. Coffee, I mean."
"Okay." The mattress creaks as he shifts. "You can have the bathroom first. I'll stay behind this wall of clothes."
"Jerk." I'm laughing now, and it helps. The tightness in my chest loosens.
"At the risk of sounding like I'm talking about planning—"
"Oh, I would never accuse you of that."
"It's not polite to interrupt." I stand, grabbing my toiletry bag from the dresser. "I was thinking we could walk the site while it's early. Get a feel for it before the gala setup starts."
"I was thinking the same thing." His voice is closer now, like he's sitting up too. "While you're getting ready in the bathroom, I'll change quickly and get my camera gear together. I want it to look like I'm just a guy with a nice camera."
"Very stealthy."
I close the bathroom door before I can say anything else.
***
The outdoor patio overlooks the water. The hotel is a historic mansion converted to a boutique inn, with terraced gardens leading down to the ocean. Tonight the gala will fill the ballroom and spill out into the gardens below. But right now it's quiet. Just us and the morning light.
Tom is halfway through his second cup of coffee, staring past me at the water. He's been quiet for three minutes. I've counted.
"Tom, what are you thinking? You seem a million miles away."
He blinks, refocuses on me. "Sorry. I was just thinking."
"About what?"
"About you." He pauses, runs his thumb along the rim of his mug. "Well, I guess more about me."
"Um. Care to elaborate?"
He sets the mug down, doesn't look at me right away.
"I told you I moved around a lot as a kid. Different homes, different rules, always temporary." He traces the rim of his mug. “I learned that staying meant getting attached—and getting attached meant getting hurt when it ended."
"Yes. It helped me understand your relationship with Wren."
He nods, still looking past me. "Now I'm here. Sharing a hotel room with a woman who made a shower schedule and yelled at me for leaving wet towels everywhere." He finally meets my eyes. "And I don't want to leave."
My throat goes tight. I grip my coffee cup with both hands.
"Good." My voice doesn't come out as steady as I meant it to.
He reaches across the table. His hand cups my face, thumb brushing my cheek. For half a second I think he's going to kiss me. My pulse hammers at the base of my throat.
