“Come on,” he said eventually, his voice gravelly. “You need some sleep.”
I was groggy when he pulled away and it took me a second to get my bearings, but he hadn’t gone far. Standing at the side of the bed, his eyes met mine as he lifted the blankets in invitation. It was a bad idea and we both knew it, but I just didn’t have it in me to do anything but close the distance between us and crawl into the king size bed.
The sheets smelled like him. Whatever he wore—it was probably just body wash and deodorant—was different than I remembered, but his smell, the scent that was specifically him, hadn’t changed. Curling onto my side in the center of the bed, I let out a long breath.
“She’s sleeping now,” Mark said as he rounded the bed. He laid the baby down next to me so gently that I felt tears sting the back of my nose.
As he walked away, I rested my hand against her chest, comforted by the rise and fall. I was so caught up in watching her, my eyes barely open as the tension finally seeped from my body, that I didn’t realize he’d gone to the opposite side of the bed until he was sliding in behind me.
We didn’t talk about it. He didn’t ask if it was okay. I didn’t ask him what he was doing. By unspoken agreement, we just let it be, but I was hyperaware of every move he made. I was conscious of every inch between us. The tension I’d finally released was back, but it was fraught with more emotions than I knew how to name.
I curled my arm up under the pillow so my head rested in the crook of my elbow. He rolled to his side. I pulled my hand from the baby girl’s chest and tucked it beneath my chin. He fidgeted with the blankets.
Finally, he pressed forward, his body aligning with mine from knees to shoulders. I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.
I rolled slightly forward, straightening my bottom leg while the top stayed bent. Like a key fitted into a lock, his top leg slid over mine, and his weight pressed against my back. I closed my eyes as his hand skimmed my waist and slid beneath my shirt to rest against my ribs.
It wasn’t sexual, not in the way it would’ve been with anyone else. It was comfort. I couldn’t remember the number of times we’d slept that way, his body wrapped around mine. Still, I couldn’t stop the slight arch of my back and tilt of my hips that lined us up perfectly. His groan was nearly inaudible.
Then, miraculously, we slept.
I woke up later to the baby squirming next to me. She hadn’t started crying yet, but by the expression on her face, Armageddon was imminent.
“Where you going?” Mark murmured, his arm around me tightening as I started to slide away.
“Baby’s up,” I replied. He moved his arm and I crawled gingerly around the baby and off the side of the bed. When I stood, I cringed. Glancing between the baby and Mark, I considered my options. I really needed to get to the bathroom before I had a serious mess on my hands, but I couldn’t exactly take her in with me unless I wanted to lay her on the floor. Mark’s bathroom was clean, but he was a dude, and I highly doubted it was that clean. I could lay her on the guest room bed—
“What’s wrong?” Mark asked.
“I need to go to the bathroom.”
“So, go.”
“Can she stay here with you?”
He stared at me, his expression confused. “Of course.”
“Thank you,” I said as I hurried around the bed.
“Stop fuckin’ thankin’ me,” he said tiredly, reaching up to scratch at his beard.
After I grabbed my supplies and cleaned up in the bathroom, I rifled through the bags we’d brought back from the store the night before. I’d gone a little crazy there, and I wasn’t ashamed to admit it. Okay, maybe I was a little ashamed. When we’d gotten to the baby department, I’d gone a little manic when I’d realized how much shit she was going to need. I’d thrown things in the cart that I knew she probably wouldn’t use for a while, but some compulsion to have everything she could possibly need was overwhelming. Maybe it was the nesting that everyone had talked about and I’d never felt.
Grabbing a little footie pajama with a matching hat, a diaper, and wipes, I held them to my chest and picked my phone up from the nightstand. My mom had texted me while we slept and thankfully, they were only a few hours away.
After sending a reply, I walked slowly back toward Mark’s room. Now that I was fully awake, I was far more hesitant to just go traipsing around in his space. I didn’t belong in there. I didn’t even belong in that house.