AllFreeNovel
Share Us
ChapterThirty-Four
I wakeup snuggled against Art, my head in the crook of his shoulder, his arm wrapped around me.
Warmth floods my chest. I’d gladly wake up like this forever.
Except… I don’t have forever. At best, I have however long it takes Art to get a green card. At worst, as soon as my parents leave, we’ll be back to sleeping in different rooms.
I force my eyes open as more unwelcome reality creeps in.
Did that out-of-this-world sex even happen? Could it have been a dream?
No. There’s a soreness to prove it was all real.
But now what? The warm and fuzzy feelings in my chest are terrifying. They make me wonder what Art thinks about the whole thing.
Did last night mean nearly as much to him as it did to me?
There’s a loud knock on the door.
“Namaste, sunshine,” Mom calls loudly. “If you don’t get up now, you’ll be late for your hair and makeup appointments.”
Skunk. How long before Mom breaks through that door?
I extricate myself from Art and check the time.
Wow. 11:05 a.m.
Art never sleeps in this late. Ever.
“Mom, I’ll be out in a minute,” I yell, pulling on a robe.
Art opens one eye. “What’s with the racket?”
“Sorry,” I whisper, flushing. “I have to be someplace. Snooze some more if you want.”
I rush to the bathroom to take care of business. When I’m almost done brushing my teeth, Art joins me, already dressed. More heat rises to my face as our eyes meet, and he gives me a crooked grin before grabbing his own toothbrush.
Okay. So that’s how we’re playing it, all cool. Got it.
I brush my teeth vigorously, and so does he. The domesticity of it pinches something inside my chest. I want to spit out the toothpaste and pepper him with questions about what last night meant, but before I can act on that iffy idea, there’s a louder knock on the door in the bedroom.
“We’re officially late,” Mom yells.
I meet Art’s eyes in the mirror and accidentally swallow the remnants of my toothpaste. “I’ve got to go.”
Toothbrush still in his mouth, Art gives me a thumbs up.
I hurry back into the bedroom, get dressed, and open the door.
Mom sneaks a peek at the bed. “Platonic night, huh?” she asks, waggling her eyebrows.
“A lady doesn’t kiss and tell,” I mutter.
Mom grins. “A lady doesn’t, but what about you?”
I don’t dignify that with a reply. Instead, I beeline to the kitchen, where Dad is drinking a cup of coffee.
“Morning,” I say and start shoving food indiscriminately into my mouth. I’ll need energy for the beautification ordeal.
