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“It is.” He leans against the railing next to me. “But it’s too quiet.”
“I can turn on the TV if you want.” I grin, and I watch him laugh, the sound of it wrapping around my insides, making me warm once again. “You don’t like the quiet?” I ask when his laughter has calmed.
“It’s difficult to get used to,” he replies softly, taking his eyes off the water to look at me. “But it’s becoming more bearable by the day.”
“Yeah,” I agree, but it has nothing to do with the quiet and everything to do with the pain that has consumed me for so long, seeming a little easier to deal with lately.
11
ELORA
41.4017° N, 124.0417° W
You know how in books, the female character always wakes feeling confused when they realize they’ve woken with the hero of the story wrapped around them? Like they don’t know how, in the night, the two of them found each other in bed, and there is a moment of panic from what it might mean?
That’s not me.
I don’t wake up surprised that I’m curled up against Roman’s chest, wondering how I got in this position. I know exactly how I ended up right where I am.
Last night, after making dinner on the grill, me cooking and him watching in amazement like he never saw anyone grill food in his life, the two of us got ready for bed. And after we both brushed our teeth and got into our pajamas—me in a T-shirt and a pair of sleep shorts, and him in just shorts—there was no discussion about one of us sleeping on the couch or any awkwardness as we got into bed. And when the lights were out, I didn’t hesitate to curl into him, and he didn’t falter in wrapping his arm around me.
The only surprise is that during the night after he and I fell asleep, I didn’t move an inch, and neither did he. His arm is still wrapped around me, and my head is still pillowed on his chest, with my arm stretched across his abs.
“Are you awake?” The deep rumble of his sleep-filled voice causes a wave of awareness to slide across my scalp and down my spine.
I know I’m attracted to him; I would have to be blind not to be. But since the moment I thought he was going to kiss me in the bathroom, nothing from him indicates he’s interested in me in that way. And I’m okay with that. I like this. It is easy and uncomplicated.
“Yeah.” I pull my arm back and sit up, shoving my hair, which I forgot to tie up, out of my face.
“Pretty.” The softly spoken compliment and the single finger he wraps around one of my curls make me laugh.
“I’m sure my hair is a wild mess.”
“I like it. It’s you.” His eyes wander over my face. “Did you sleep okay?”
“Yeah, you?”
“Yeah.” He sits up. “What do you want to do today?”
“We need to find somewhere else to stay,” I remind him quietly, and he shakes his head. “Roman, this place is crazy expensive.”
“How long are we staying before we head to San Francisco?”
I blink, wondering how he possibly remembered that San Francisco is next when I only told him once that I can recall.
“Elora?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know. A few nights.”
“All right.” He gets out of bed and then turns to face me. “I’d rather us not spend the day trying to track down a campground with spots available, not when we aren’t going to be here long.”
“Roman—”
“I’m going to call the office and see if this place is available for the next few days. If it is, we’ll stay here. If not, we’ll look for somewhere else.”
“When I get the money from selling the property, I’ll pay you back.”
Leaning down, he rests his fists on the mattress next to my hips, placing his face close to mine. “I don’t give a fuck about the money, Elora. It doesn’t mean shit to me.”
