Page 59
* * *
I have no idea when we went to sleep. I have no idea how many times I came…at a certain point I grew too tired to keep an accurate record. All I know is that when my eyes blink open, the room is flooded with sunshine, and the bedroom door is flying open, with Matthew launching himself toward us. Brendan manages to yank the sheets up, but not fast enough.
Matthew, frowning, asks me where my pajamas are. I cast a panicked glance at Brendan, who looks tempted to laugh.
"They must have fallen off while I was asleep.” I wince as I say it. Really, Erin? You couldn’t do better than that?
And if Matthew decides to get any more observant, we're going to be explaining tied-off condoms too, since I don't ever recall Brendan getting up to flush them.
"Let's go downstairs, Matthew," I say.
"Erin," says Brendan with mock seriousness, "you can't go downstairs. Your pajamas fell off, remember?"
"It seems like a better idea," I reply between my teeth, looking at the floor and nightstand behind him, "than staying in here, don't you think?"
Understanding comes into his face, and he swings the covers away. "I'll take him."
In spite of the situation and the presence of a small child, I take one last moment to let the glory of Brendan sink in. The future may be a mystery to me, but I guarantee it’ll never involve anyone quite as pretty as him walking out of my bed, bare-ass naked.
"Your ‘jamas fell off too, Bwendan?" Matthew asks.
"No, my pajamas didn't fall off," Brendan replies, grabbing shorts from his backpack. "Real men don't wear pajamas."
Matthew follows him from the room, nodding as if he's just learned something valuable. I bet Olivia never convinces him to wear pajamas again.
* * *
When the door shuts, I stumble into the shower. My whole body is sore, and there are certain parts rubbed so raw that soaping them hurts. I emerge feeling almost beaten, dying to climb back in bed and sink into the sort of deep sleep Brendan and I only got a small taste of. But I can't, of course, because I’m leaving in a few hours, and also because if the girl who just ran 100 miles can rally, I can too.
Wearily, I descend the stairs. Most of the crew is here, and there's a look on their faces as I enter the kitchen that lets me know, in no uncertain terms, that we were every bit as loud as I thought last night. I catch Brendan's eye and watch as he tries to maintain a straight face while simultaneously laughing so hard his shoulders are shaking. As does Olivia beside him.
"I hate both of you," I mutter as I walk past them to the coffee.
The discussion, fortunately, has turned to a blow-by-blow of the race. Will comes down and unceremoniously hands Caroline over the table to Olivia.
"Hungry," he grunts. I'm unsure if he means himself or the baby until I watch Olivia pull her shirt over Caroline's head and start to nurse.
Brendan flinches. "It's so awkward when you do that."
"Yeah." She nods. "But not nearly as awkward as you trying to push the headboard through the wall last night. I mean, I ran a hundred miles yesterday, and even I couldn't sleep through that."
He groans. "Olivia, my mother is sitting right here at the table."
"I slept here too, Brendan,” says Dorothy. “It's not like I'm just figuring it out now."
"I'm going back to bed," I grumble, turning on my heel to leave the room.
"Don't worry, Erin!" Olivia shouts. "We'll keep Brendan down here so you can get an hour of undisturbed sleep."
41
Erin
Present
Sleeping with someone you’re not supposed to sleep with is an awful lot like breaking a diet. Once it’s happened, it’s pretty easy to justify breaking it again. It’s tempting, in fact, to scrap any attempt at discipline at all.
I woke up later Sunday morning to catch the airport shuttle. Brendan was sprawled out on his bed, asleep, with his door wide open. That was the first moment I thought one more time wouldn’t hurt. I’ve thought it about a thousand times since.
