Boone
As soon as I hear the lock engage behind me, I step off the porch and make a beeline to my car. If I didn’t get out of there when I did, I’m not sure I would have left at all. I was tempted tofallasleep on the couch or do a very good job of pretending to anyway to see if she would let me stay, but that was before she got up to get a drink, and I followed her like a lost duck.
There have been plenty of times when I didn’t want a night to end, but this was different. It wasn’t just the night I didn’t want to end. I could see myself spending days with Harlyn—countless dinners, sappy shit like going to the fair or walking by the water and holding her hand.
I glance in the rearview mirror as the gated entrance to her community falls back into place behind me. The face of the security guard is in the window, watching me leave. “Get used to it, buddy. I’ll be back,” I mutter to myself before punching thegas to head back to my empty hotel room where I know sleep won’t come easily for several reasons.
Harlyn
I lock the door as promised then move through the rest of the house, making sure all the other doors and windows are still locked in a ritual I’m not sure I will ever be able to let go. When I pass through the living room, I turn off the television. I don’t have any interest in finishing the movie.
Before heading upstairs for the night, I freshen up my ice water. It’s when I’m taking one final look around the room that I notice the manila folder still on the stool. I falter for about two seconds before I walk toward the paper file.
Picking it up makes me realize how little it weighs, considering all the information it could have inside. There’s no way Boone is going to forget about the file, but I could pretend I did. Guilt gnaws at me for the planned deception, but it doesn’t stop me from flipping the cover open.
The report in front is brief and doesn’t have any details I didn’t already know. It’s almost a relief. Before I flip the paper to the side, revealing the contents beneath, I hesitate. Is this really what I want to do right before trying to sleep? My current reality is already enough to keep me awake.
The image of Boone sitting at the table earlier this evening, thumbing through the file, passes through my thoughts. Mind made up, I place the folder on the table then turn off one of the lamps on my way to the stairs. Phone in hand, I send a text to Boone before it gets too late and I risk waking him up.
Me: Sorry to bother you. I just wanted to let you know you left the file here.
My phone rings before I even make it up to the third floor. There’s a smile on my lips when I bring it up to my ear after answering. “Hello?”
“Shit, Harlyn, I’m turning around.”
“No, it’s fine. I don’t want to keep you up any later than I already have. Besides, I left it downstairs.”
“Downstairs? Are you heading to bed?” Did his voice change when he asked that question, or is my mind playing tricks on me?
“To the bedroom, yes, to actually sleep… That’s a whole other story.” There was definitely a teasing tone in my voice.
Boone lets out a long breath that could be called a weighted sigh before saying, “I’m sorry.”
“It isn’t your fault,” I tell him while heading into the bathroom to turn the light on. The glow from the single lamp I left on below doesn’t really reach this floor, and I’m not ready to sleep in the dark just yet.
“I could have waited until tomorrow to talk to you about this.” Having his deep voice in my ear isalmostas good as having him with me. I don’t feel the same sense of dread about getting ready for bed that I usually do.
“It wouldn’t have mattered. I told you sleep hasn’t been easy for a while, and besides, I’m glad you came over. I very much enjoyed your company.” Heat warms my cheeks as I admit the truth I doubt I would be able to confess if he were actually in front of me.
There’s a slight pause before he responds, giving me time to second-guess my admission. “Me too. I was trying to talk myselfout of texting you to see if you were free for breakfast.” His voice is laced with an edge of humor.
“Yes,” I answer, smiling even wider as I sit on the bed, bringing my feet up to tuck my toes under the covers. I’m in no rush to get off the phone to wash my face and brush my teeth.
“Yes to breakfast?” he questions, and I hear what I think is his turn signal ticking in the background again. It’s kind of dumb, but there’s a part of me that wishes I would have let him come back, even if it was just under the guise of getting the folder.
“Or brunch.” I shrug, enjoying the almost giddy feeling in my chest. It’s been a very long time since I’ve allowed myself to feel so… light.
“Late sleeper?”
“Not really, especially here with all the uncovered windows. I was just saying I’m pretty much always free.”
“Uncovered windows?” he questions.
I look around, focusing on the dark horizon over the water and the moon far above it. “The third floor is a loft. There are no curtains or anything, but you can’t beat the view.”
“I bet,” he mutters rather softly.
“I was a little freaked out to sleep up here at first.” The confession comes easily. “But I love the space, and I didn’t want to let something else be taken from me.” Boone doesn’t respond quick enough, and I blurt out, “Sorry, I’m making this weird. I just wanted you to know you left the folder.”
