What He Left Behind(65)

“I know what you mean.” Ian takes my hand, and a little smile works its way onto his lips. “I think we’d both be lying if we said we haven’t enjoyed being with him, particularly now that it’s not so rough on him anymore.”

“True.” Why doesn’t that explanation feel like enough? “I guess it has been pretty fun for all three of us, especially the more he’s recovered.”

“It has.” Ian grins. “Let’s face it—our sex life is better than it’s been in a long time.”

I can’t really argue with that. We’ve been having more sex lately than we have for the past few years, and it’s been absolutely smoking hot. Not that it was ever lacking, but lately it’s been better. Just like our marriage—nothing has been missing all these years, but tonight it suddenly feels like there is.

Shame turns my stomach. It’s just an adjustment, that’s all. There is absolutely nothing missing in my marriage.

“Damn,” Ian says. “How is it already quarter to ten?”

Where is Michael now? Are he and Dr. Klein—

No, no, no. Don’t need to think about that.

“Time flies, I guess.”

“It always does.” Ian kisses my temple. “We should head to bed. Some of us have to be up at the crack of dawn.”

“Sucks to be you,” I say with a halfhearted laugh. “And what the hell? It’s not even that late yet.”

“Uh-huh. But if we go to bed now…”

Oh.

Oh.

Ian’s alarm startles me awake. I usually sleep through it, or if I wake up at all, it’s not for long, but this time, he may as well have kicked me.

As he always does, he slips out of bed almost silently and goes into the bathroom to take a shower and get ready for work. That’s my cue to start drifting off again. He’ll wake me briefly with a kiss good-bye, murmur “I love you” in my ear, and then he’ll leave me to sleep until my own alarm screeches.

Except that drifting-off part isn’t happening. At all.

I listen to the shower come on. A few minutes later, it turns off again. The faucet runs. His razor clinks against the edge of the sink.

Fuck. I’m not going back to sleep, am I? With as much time as I spent wide awake last night, I could’ve used that extra hour or two of sleep, but it’s not happening. Might as well get up.

Rosie is still curled up on Ian’s pillow, and Ariel is sprawled across the foot of the bed. I carefully pull my legs out from under her so I don’t wake her up. She’s not much of a morning dog, though, and just grumbles and fidgets a little.

Sitting on the edge of the mattress, I rub my eyes as if that’ll actually banish the fatigue. At this hour? Not likely.

Coffee, we’re going to be really good buddies today.

I grumble some profanity as I push myself to my feet.

Like he always does, Ian’s got the bathroom door open to let the cool air in now that the shower has steamed everything up. He’s halfway through shaving when I lean against the doorframe. He glances at me as he rinses his razor.

“You’re awake.”

“Well, that’s being generous.” I yawn and rub my eyes again.

“Can’t sleep?”

I shake my head. “Might as well get up and get moving.”

“Thinking about Michael?”

“Am I that obvious?”

“No.” He tilts his head back and draws the razor up his neck. “But I was thinking about him a lot last night too.”

I shift uncomfortably. “Were you?”

“Kind of hard not to.” He glances at me, but then continues focusing on shaving. As he works his way along the side of his throat, he says, “Even if I hadn’t gotten physically involved, I’m still worried about the guy. And after I got involved…”

I raise my eyebrows.

He rinses his razor and glances at me again. “I don’t know. I guess I just felt more…invested. I’ve always cared about him, first because he was your friend, and then because he was also mine. And I guess getting physical with someone…”

It’s a struggle not to shift and fidget, especially as we both silently watch his reflection while he finishes his neck and jaw. If Ian’s gotten in deeper now that they’ve gotten physical, what does that mean for me?

That’s probably not something I want to think about. Especially not before I’ve had coffee.

Ian finishes shaving and dries his face. “Sink’s all yours.”

“Thanks.”

In silence, we go about our routines, and despite the tight quarters, we don’t get underfoot. After all this time, we’ve mastered the art of staying out of each other’s way. Especially since we’ve had to do this with a rambunctious boxer and, at times, a tripping hazard cat in the way.

As I finish brushing my teeth, Ian comes back in, buttoning his crisp white shirt, his shirttails untucked and his tie draped over his shoulders.

“You going to be okay today?”

“I’ll manage.” I shrug as I rinse my toothbrush. “We’ve got that high octane coffee at work now. I should be able to stay awake.”

“That’s not the part I’m worried about.”

I meet his eyes in the mirror. “Yeah. That. I’m, um, having lunch with him today. I’ll find out how last night went.”