Page 19

I try to change out of my dress clothes and into dark lounge pants and a plain gray tee as quickly as I can.

I have to be fast. I forgot to ask Claire if she wants me to sleep with her in the bed—safely on one side and on top of the covers, of course—or if she prefers for me to stay on the chair that’s over by the closet.

But when I return to her bedroom, she’s fast asleep.

Now I need to make the decision on my own.

Shit, I hope I choose the right one.

I could always just go back to my own room, but I made a promise. And we all know how adamant I am about keeping my word.

So, will it be the chair or the bed?

The chair is kind of small. I won’t get much sleep there. And Claire does look adorable all curled up on her side, one hand under the pillows. There’s plenty of room next to her.

Aw, fuck it.

I decide to just lie down on the bed. But, as planned, I opt to stay on top of the covers. I don’t want to overstep any boundaries here.

Though a huge part of me would love to wrap my arms around her, I don’t. Again, this is new territory for us. And since Claire is impaired, I prefer to err on the side of caution.

So I just lie on my back, arms at my sides.

A surprisingly short while later, that’s the way I fall asleep.

I wake up twice during the night. The first time is when Claire gets up to go to the en suite bathroom. I listen long enough to make sure she’s not getting sick, which she isn’t, and then I nod back off.

The second time I’m roused is when I feel Claire resting her hand on my chest.

That one makes me smile.

And then I’m back to dreamland.

The third time I wake up, it’s morning.

The blinds are closed, but there’s a little bit of light coming in, enough to see Claire’s now on top of the covers with me.

Uh, and we’re facing each other.

But that’s not the end of it. Claire is snuggled in close to my chest, her hand clenching my tee. My arm is around her, holding her protectively.

I must’ve done that in my sleep.

I…don’t…move.

I want to savor this moment.

I can’t help but think this is how it should be every night. Too bad that’s just a wish. Tonight I’ll be back in my own bed down the hall, and Claire will be in here.

Even though I’m still as can be, Claire begins to stir.

Maybe she senses I’m awake.

In any case, I can tell when she wakes up by the way she sucks in a clearly surprised breath.

But she also doesn’t move.

We just lie still, pretending like we’re both asleep.

But then, out of the blue, I feel her press her nose into me and breathe in.

I take a chance and run my hand down to the small of her back.

She grips my T-shirt more tightly.

I breathe out.

She breathes in.

I breathe out.

She breathes in.

And then she murmurs, “Easton?”

“Yeah?”

She lets go of my shirt and scoots up.

I pull back my arm.

Still facing me, my head on one pillow and hers on another, and with a little more space between us now, she smiles at me and says, “Thank you for taking care of me and staying with me last night.”

“Anytime,” I reply.

She winces. “Ugh, hopefully you won’t have to do this again any time soon. I don’t plan to go overboard like that in the future.”

I laugh. “I don’t think anyone ever plans to go overboard, Claire. But if it ever happens again, I’ll be here for you.”

“Thank you,” she murmurs. “I’ll do the same for you too.”

That’s us, taking care of each other.

She sighs, and with my brow creasing in concern, I ask, “How do you feel now? Still pretty bad?”

“No.” She shakes her head on the pillow. “Surprisingly, I’m okay.”

“Good. The aspirin and water probably helped.”

“I think so.”

Man, I love how we’re lying here in bed together and everything is just so relaxed and mellow. I was worried there’d be some awkwardness today, but that isn’t the case.

Since all is good, I ask her if she’d like for me to make us breakfast. “That is,” I qualify, “if your stomach feels up to it.”

“Yeah.” She touches her belly. “Breakfast would be great. I’m actually really hungry.”

“Then let me go get things started.”

I slide off the bed, and Claire, sitting up, tells me, “I think I’m going to go take a shower first. I feel kind of icky from drinking. But I promise I’ll be quick.”

“No problem.” I reply, stretching and twisting to loosen up. “Eggs and bacon sound good?”

“Mmmm, sounds perfect.” Then she adds, “Oh, and can we have toast? Lots of toast.”

“Sure.” I nod. “I’ll make plenty.”

I head down to the kitchen, leaving Claire to take her shower. I don’t rush with getting everything together to allow her time to make it down.

And the timing turns out to be perfect. Claire walks into the kitchen just as I’m plating the eggs.

I look over at her long enough to see she has on black leggings and a violet-and-black Bears tee.

“Cute shirt,” I say with a laugh.

I actually love when she wears my team’s colors.

But I keep that one to myself.

“Thanks,” she says as she takes a seat at the kitchen table, where I’ve already placed flatware and two tall glasses filled with orange juice. “I thought I’d show a little team spirit today.”

“Hey, I’m cool with that.” I pause, then say, “Oh, I forgot to ask you earlier, but I remembered you always loved your eggs over easy. Hope that’s still the case.”

“It is,” she replies.

“Great.” I add a couple of slices of crispy bacon to her plate, then set it on the table in front of her. “Here ya go. Enjoy.”

“I think I will,” she tells me. “This looks delicious.”

And then I remember. “Crap, I forgot the toast.”

After loading up the six-slice toaster, I grab a tub of butter and two different types of jelly from the fridge.

A few minutes later, Claire has her toast.

As do I.

With my own plate filled, I join her at the table.

As we eat breakfast, we talk about the party and how, despite Claire overindulging a bit, it was still a good time. We also give ourselves props for successfully keeping Madison and Lennox apart.

“Though, damn, did you see the looks they were giving each other?” Claire asks.

After taking a sip of juice, I set my glass back down on the table and nod. “I did. Keeping those two away from each other forever is going to be a challenge.”

“It is,” she agrees. “But if anyone can do it, we can.”

I chuckle. “I think so too. We have so got this.”

“And you know why, right?” she asks.

Curious, I raise a brow. “Why’s that?”

Holding up her glass as if to make a toast, she states matter-of-factly, “Because we make a great team, Easton. I know we seem to say that a lot, but it’s so damn true. We always did make a good pair, and we always will.”

Hell, I’ll toast to us any day.

Smiling and tapping my glass to hers, I say, “You got that right, babe. Every last word of it.”