Page 33 of Trial and Error

She hides her face into the pillows and shrugs. I like this shy side of her and I find myself reaching for her, desperate to feel her skin against mine. I spread my hand over her thigh and give it a soft squeeze.

“I don’t mind sharing a bed,” I tell her. Her head turns so I can only see the side of her face. “As long as you don’t snore.”

Bridget scoffs and leans across to playfully smack my arm. “I don’t snore,” she pouts, and for a second my gaze drops.

“How would you know, if you’re asleep?” I quip back, enjoying teasing her.

Her lips open, then close again, and before she can speak the buzzer rings.

I frown. I push myself up from the couch and stretch, pausing as I hear Bridget take in a deep breath. I look down to see my morning glory standing strong, and when I glance at Bridget with a coy smirk, her eyes linger down below.

“Take a picture.” Her gaze snaps up to mine. “It’ll last longer.”

She rolls her eyes. “Please.” She waves her hand dismissively as she looks up at me with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “I thought it’d be more impressive.”

I chuckle. “Don’t you worry, baby.” The pet name slips out my lips with ease and I note the way her eyes glaze over slightly as I say it. “I would show you how impressive I really am, but we’ve got guests. Think you can be patient?”

Her lips part, no words coming out as she looks down at her lap where her hands are clenching around the blanket. “I’m sure I can wait a little longer,” she hums.

I pause, wanting to continue this conversation to see where it takes us, but the buzzer rings again and I’m brought back to reality. I make my way toward the phone that hangs on the wall, lifting it off the hook and pressing it against my ear.

“Hello?”

“Hello, darling,” mom says. “Will you let us in?”

I tilt my head back and squeeze my eyes shut, inwardly laughing at their impeccable timing.

“Sure, come on up.”

I put the phone back and wait by the door until I hear the elevator ding down the hall before pulling the front door open. Mom and Patrick come into view, the two of them walking toward me in silence.

Mom gives a weak smile but it doesn’t reach her eyes, and I immediately straighten—something is wrong.

I frown and step aside. “Is everything okay?”

She doesn’t answer as she steps over the threshold and begins to remove her boots. She places them on the floor and pauses, her gaze straying to the pair of heels that are tucked under the table neatly. A knowing smile makes its way onto her face and as she looks up at me it widens.

“Oh, I hope we’re not interrupting,” she says. “I didn’t think to check if you had company.”

Patrick chuckles softly when he also looks down at the shoes and winks at me. “We won’t keep you and your lovely lady long, son.”

They make their way to the living room, and I follow behind them. Bridget is playing with the blanket when I clear my throat, announcing our guests. She jumps up when she sees them, and I stifle a laugh when she gasps at her lack of clothing. With fast hands, she reaches down and grabs the blanket and wraps it around her hips.

Stepping forward, she waves awkwardly at my parents, the blush that was already on her face is now a bright hue of red. “Hi!” she says breathlessly. “It’s so nice to see you.”

Mom smiles at her as she wraps her arms around her shoulders and I’d be lying if I said the sight didn’t make my chest feel slightly tight. Patrick steps forward and places a kiss on Bridget’s cheek before pulling me in for a hug, his grip on me firm.

“I better get out of your hair, I didn’t realize you had plans…” Bridget laughs awkwardly, looking over at me with questioning eyes. “I don’t want to intrude.”

Mom shakes her head and takes Bridget’s hand in hers. “Please, there is something we need to speak with Elias about.” She lets out a shaky sigh. “And I think it would be best if you’re here, too.”

Bridget’s confusion is more apparent, and as she looks over at me, she must see the way my face is pulled into a tight frown, because she nods and releases my mom’s hand and moves over to me instead.

“I’ll make some coffee,” she says quietly.

I don’t wait for my parents’ response as I walk us over to the kitchen. Mom and Patrick are settling themselves on the couch.

I sigh. Moving my hands from her own, I place them on her arms and begin to rub them. “I’m sorry, their visit wasn’t expected—I had no idea they were stopping by,” I tell her honestly. “Let me order you an Uber.”