Abbie’s arms tangled around me. The gentle glow of morning sun trickling in through the curtains bracketing the balcony door. The rhythmic cadence of her chest rising and falling.
I hesitated, scared my movements would break the spell that enveloped us. The two of us had talked late into the night, laughing and sharing snacks we stole from the fridge downstairs. We exchanged kisses, but nothing more. We’d passed out on the couch sometime around two in the morning.
We both held things back. There were some conversations that needed to be held in the light of day. In the darkness of night, it’s easy to hide behind the walls we’ve constructed. It’s easy to ignore those wounds and scars we’d rather not see. It’s far harder to hide from the ugly truths in the morning sun.
Abbie stirred next to me, momentarily interrupting that train of thought. I reached for my phone, squinting as my eyes adjusted to the screen.
“Oh crap,” I said. Abbie grumbled, blindly fumbling for my phone, trying to turn the brightness down. “Kameron and Imogen are already at Watley’s.”
That woke her up.
“Damn, I completely forgot to set an alarm,” she exclaimed, scrambling off the couch and sprinting toward her bedroom. “Did you bring clothes?”
“Nope,” I said. “What I wore yesterday will be fine.”
“I appreciate how practical you are, but you smell like sweat, grease, and stale beer. I think I have a pair of your sweatpants in here still.”
That got my attention. Abbie ducked into her bedroom. I heard the distant sounds of her sifting through her clothes. I was grinning like a madman from the idea that Abbie had kept. I sat up on the couch right as she hurled a pair of grey sweatpants and a plain white t-shirt in my direction.
“You kept these?”
Abbie didn’t meet my eyes, but I caught a small smile on her face as she turned away from me once more, this time heading for the bathroom.
“There’s no way this shirt still fits me.”
“Make it work,” Abbie called. “You have three minutes to get ready.”
I leaped to my feet, still grinning, making a beeline for the guest bathroom.
Ten minutes later, much to Abbie’s chagrin, we were finally walking down the street towards Watley’s. She blamed me for distracting her when I walked past her room wearing the outfit she’d chosen for me.
“Good morning,” I said, sliding into the booth beside Kam. Imogen scooted closer to the window so Abbie could sit beside her, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.
“Have a good night?” Imogen said sweetly, and I rolled my eyes.
“There was no virtue stealing, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Both of you quit,” Abbie said, looking first at Imogen and then at me. I shrugged and reached for a menu, despite already knowing what I wanted to order. “We slept in because we were up latetalking.”
“What about your night?” I asked, turning slightly to face Kameron in the booth. He was suspiciously quiet.
“It was fine,” Kameron said. Imogen shifted in her seat. Abbie didn’t seem to notice, but I looked between the two of them. I had too many questions and very few answers.
“Where’s Lucas?”
“Right here,” Lucas said, grabbing a chair from the table across from our booth and sliding it up to our table, effectively making all of us crowded. Everyone shuffled farther into the booth. “I know you were all patiently waiting for my arrival.”
“So, when someone says we’re meeting for breakfast at nine a.m., does that mean something different for military guys?” Imogen said, handing Abbie her menu to add to the pile at the end of the table.
“I don’t know who in their right mind expected everyone to show up for a Saturday morning formation after a night of heavy drinking,” Lucas said, shaking his head.
“None of you drink,” Imogen said, scowling. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing, nudging Kameron’s foot under the table, urging him to jump into the conversation.
“I don’t drink around the two of them,” Lucas corrected. “And that doesn’t mean I can’t be tired of being up all night with the ladies,” Lucas said, yawning for effect. Imogen mockingly sneered in his direction. The gesture reminded me of a sister making fun of her brother for doing something ridiculous.
“If the children have finished arguing,” Abbie said, her eyes darting between Imogen and Lucas, “we should discuss what comes next.”
“It’s just about time for us to head back to Winding Road,” Kam said, handing Abbie his menu to add to the pile. “We have a new cohort starting at the end of next week.”