"Hey." Her hand comes up to the back of my head, fingers tangling in my hair.
"Sorry," I manage. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm crying." I swallow hard. "They're good tears, I promise. That was just so beautiful and I'm a little…"
"Overwhelmed?"
"Yeah."
Maggie kisses the top of my head and tightens her arms around me.
There are so many things I'm not saying. That I clearly didn't know who I was. That whatever just happened was so beautiful it touched me somewhere no one has reached before. That every person I've been with was practicing on the wrong version of me. That for the first time, my body knows exactly what it wants and exactly where it wants to be. That I'm falling for her, and I'm afraid of losing her. None of it makes it out of me.
50
MAGGIE
Sloane is on her stomach with her hair across the pillow and her hand tucked under her cheek. The sheet has slipped down to her waist, leaving the line of her bare back exposed in the sunbeam, and one bare foot is sticking out from under the covers. She sleeps deep, motionless, her lips slightly parted against the pillow.
She was wrung out by the time we finally went to sleep, and when I rolled over this morning to turn off my alarm, she didn't move at all.
I touch her shoulder. "Sloane."
Nothing.
I lean down and brush her hair back off her face. "Sloane."
She makes a sweet sound but her eyes don't open. One hand comes up and bats vaguely in my direction.
"Sloane, come on. I brought you coffee."
That gets her. Her eyes open slowly and she sits with her knees pulled up, the sheet falling.
"Oh my god," she says, rubbing her eyes. "I slept so deep." She looks around the bedroom, then at the window like she'strying to figure out the basics of location and time. "I haven't slept like that since I was in my own bed."
"Good." I smile. "Here, I brought you coffee and toast with jam."
"Thank you, that's so sweet." She takes the cup and looks at the plate on her nightstand. "Mmm. That's delicious."
"You're welcome and I'm sorry to wake you," I say. "I would've let you sleep but Luis will be here soon and I figured it would be better if you were at least out of my bed by then. Don't rush though; you have twenty minutes."
"Of course." She meets my eyes and smiles shyly. "Thank you again and…" She blushes. "Thank you for last night. It was really special to me."
"It was for me too," I say, then take a breath. "Look, I want you to know it's okay if you want to leave it at this. It's a lot to process. You don't have to know how you feel about it, and I won't blame you if it turns out not to be for you. Or if you change your mind. Or —"
"Maggie." She looks up at me with such open disbelief that I stop mid-sentence. "Did I come across like it wasn't for me?"
"No. Quite the contrary."
"Good. Just checking. If it's what you want too, I want to do this again and again and again." Sloane chuckles. "And again."
"Okay." I scoot a little closer. It's an awkward conversation to have but thankfully she's making it easy. "So, what now?"
"Like I said, we do it again." Sloane shoots me a grin and takes my hand. "When can I see you again? In private, I mean."
I think about it. The honest answer is not a sensible one. It's that I would have her in my bed every night until her two months are up, which is long enough for her to break my heart.
"You can stay here whenever I'm alone," I say, leaning in to kiss her. "We just have to be really careful. Tonight, Mom is coming over though. We're going through some paperwork."
"Okay." She squeezes my hand. "So what does really careful mean, exactly?"
