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Her eyes opened and she lifted her head. “What? Leave me alone. I was having a good dream,” she protested. “Aiden was in it.”
He smirked and wondered what that dream was about, but let it go.
“I know, I’m sorry,” he said in his most soothing voice. “You can go back to sleep in a few minutes. I promise. But right now, tell me — where are your keys?”
“Keys?”
“Mmmhmm. Where are they?”
“Don’t know.”
Aiden reached in and patted her dress pockets. He felt her phone and slim wallet, but no keys.
“Hey! That feels nice, but I’m not that easy. I don’t even know you!” Bex admonished him.
He chuckled and shook his head.
“Okay, I’m sorry,” he said.
“Mm. ‘sss okay. ‘pology cepted since you’re sexy,” she slurred.
“You think I’m sexy, huh?”
“Mmmhmm. And I ssswear, I’m not as think as you drunk I am.”
He chuckled at her word mix-up. “You’re not?”
“Nope.” She popped her lips on the ‘p’.
A smile tugged at his lips. He’d missed this woman.
“I believe you. Do me a favor and wait here, okay?” he asked.
She nodded and leaned her head back against the seat. “Mmkay.” Almost immediately, she fell asleep again.
He shut the car door and looked back to the house. When he couldn’t sneak in through the front door as a kid, he used to climb through Bex’s window. He wondered if the latch was still broken.
After a quick glance at Bex, he walked toward the back of the house. As an afterthought, he locked his car. He didn’t want anyone messing with her while he was gone.
He rounded the house and a motion light kicked on, illuminating the backyard. The light rippled over the waves of the pool and outdoor furniture. He tested the back door first, in case he might be so lucky. Locked.
Backing up to where he could see the upstairs windows, he could tell Bex’s window sat cracked open. He breathed a sigh of relief. He could get in.
He made his way to the old tree whose branches hung over the back porch roof. Again, memories rushed back to him. He’d climbed that tree many times.
The bark felt rough beneath his hands as he hoisted himself up into the tree. He climbed upward, the bark scratching at his skin with each move, until he reached the branch that hung over the roof.
Aiden stopped for a minute to catch his breath. He didn’t remember this climb being so strenuous, but the last time he’d climbed a tree, it had been this very tree when he was a spry 18-year-old.
He hoisted himself onto the branch and crawled out on it as far as he could. He jumped down onto the roof, his feet firmly planting on the shingles, and released the branch.
Aiden crossed the roof and slid the window open, which squeaked in protest.
He climbed over the window ledge and dropped into Bex’s old bedroom. His shoes thumped as they hit the floor.
The room looked exactly like it had before she left for college. Punk band posters from a decade ago lined the walls, and the bed had the same black comforter. His hand trailed across the bed as memories hit him.
Their first time together in this very bed when her parents were away. The subsequent hours of “practice” they put in perfecting their techniques. The time spent together on those pillows, staring at her ceiling, making plans for their future together. Three years.
