CHLOE BAKER'S LOST DATE

Chapter Twenty-Two: Aftermath

"Good morning," Ben says to me hours later, after we've melded and melted together and then eventually fallen into a deep sleep.

Now the light is flooding in through the large windows in his bedroom which are only covered by white sheers.

"What time is it?" I ask, feeling groggy and thick in the head. My body feels sore, like I've had a good workout, which I guess is not so far from the truth.

"Early, sorry, I have some stuff to do this morning."

I peek at my watch. It's 7:45. "Is this your usual hour for waking after a night of drinking and sex?"

He laughs. I like the way the skin crinkles around his eyes. "I only had two drinks."

"Two plus one today."

"Right. I forgot."

"I wasn't counting."

"It's fine if you were. I'm the one with the silly rule."

"Not very rock and roll of you."

He kisses the bridge of my nose. "And that's the point."

I open my eyes past the slits I've been peering out of. Ben is rumpled in a good way, his hair sticking up a bit, his stubble thicker than usual. I didn't get much chance to examine him naked last night, but now I can admire his lean torso, muscles like a swimmer has—long and stretched out—and the freckles across his shoulders.

"You checking me out?"

I look up. His eyes are dancing.

"Maybe. That a problem?"

"Not at all. I only wish I had more time to linger."

"I can get ready in ten."

"No, no. You stay."

"Here?"

"Yes, of course."

"You sure?"

"I'll be back in a couple of hours. I'll bring breakfast. Sound good?"

I glance around his room. It's spartan, with only a few band posters on the white walls, a dresser I recognize from Ikea, his closet door closed.

"You can go back to sleep or spend your time snooping. Up to you?"

I take a swat at him. "I wasn't going to snoop."

"Course you were. I would too."

"Okay, for-warned."

He leans in and kisses me. "Why don't you try to go back to sleep? I'll be back before you know it."

I nod as he stands and lean back against the pillows. His bed is comfortable, the pillows the right firmness for sleeping. The sheets are good too. I try not to think too hard about what that means. If it's because they were picked by Rachel and he got it in the breakup.

I pull the sheets up over my eyes as I listen to him in the bathroom. I'm still tired and a bit hungover—sexed-over—and I could use some more sleep. I start to count down from ten slowly, Ben's movements a background noise.

And whether it's the lack of sleep or the lingering alcohol or our hours of exertion it works. I fall easily to back to sleep and don't even notice when he's gone.

###

I'm awoken two hours later by the insistent sound of texts coming from my phone. Or someone's phone. Mine probably. It stops then starts again, the angry double pinging of a series of texts. I stand up and riffle through my things until I find my purse and my phone.