Back to You(60)

“Midnight,” he said, his hand resting on her cheek. “We all fell asleep.”
“Erin?” she asked.
“She’s in her bed. I think it’s over,” he said softly, his thumb brushing the side of her face as he spoke.
Lauren nodded, her eyes falling closed for a second before she opened them again.
She felt his breath against her face as he spoke. “Take my bed tonight. I’ll sleep in Erin’s room with her.”
Lauren shook her head gently. “I’ll be awake in a second.”
“Please,” he said softly. “I don’t want you driving like this. It’s the least I could do.”
Lauren knew she should protest. She knew she had no business staying in this house. But she was so tired, and the idea of driving home right now seemed so daunting, and his bed was so close, just a few feet away…
With a sigh, she felt herself nod, and she could just make out the smile on Michael’s lips.
“Thank you again. For everything.”
Before she could even register what he was doing, Michael leaned toward her, pressing his lips against her cheek. The corner of his mouth touched the corner of hers, and Lauren closed her eyes, her body feeling heavy as he pressed his lips to hersyn the with sleep and surrender.
His lips left her skin slowly, but he made no move to pull away from her; their faces were so close now that Lauren could no longer decipher his features in the dimness.
And then, against her will, she turned slightly, closing her eyes and pressing her cheek against his.
His hand was still on her face, and she felt his fingers twitch ever so slightly as he exhaled a slow, shaky breath, the heat of it dancing over her ear and down her neck.
With one last stroke of his thumb against her cheek, he pulled back suddenly. “Good night, Lauren,” he said, his voice somewhat strained, and he turned and walked down the hall toward Erin’s room.
Lauren sat on the couch for a minute after he’d left her, her eyes closed and her breathing slow, but this time, it had nothing to do with being tired. When she finally regained her composure, she stood and walked down the hall to Michael’s bedroom.
By the time she climbed into his bed, she was wide awake, and she lay there in the darkness, blinking up at his ceiling. There was a strange twinge low in her chest, and she wondered briefly if perhaps she’d caught Erin’s virus.
With a sigh, she rolled onto her side and buried her face into his pillow.
It smelled like his bed in high school.
Lauren closed her eyes, remembering all the afternoons she’d spent lying in his bed, doing homework, talking, watching movies, the time he spent the entire afternoon trying to teach her how to play video games, to no avail. She remembered the night she had too much to drink at a party, and Michael had taken her home with him so she wouldn’t get in trouble, tucking her into his bed and sleeping next to her above the covers.
The twinge in her chest surfaced again, and she knew it had nothing to do with Erin’s virus. It was her body telling her what she had known on some level all along, despite the weeks of insistence otherwise.
She still had feelings for Michael. After all these years, after everything he’d done, she still had feelings for him.
Admitting that to herself instantly filled her with equal parts pain and relief, and she turned her face further into his pillow, inhaling deeply.
And then she forced herself to remember the night she wouldn’t allow herself to think about for a long time afterward, and almost immediately, she felt the pillow grow damp beneath her cheek.
She pressed her lips together as all the emotions she expected to feel when she first saw him came crashing down on her with a vengeance: the humiliation, the betrayal, the confusion, the mind-numbing pain.
And yet all she wanted at that moment was for Michael to be in that bed with her, comforting her, reassuring her, wiping the memory of what had happened out of her mind.
She pulled one of his pillows into her body and stifled a sob, wishing more than anything that it was him she was holding. The need pushed against her chest so forcefully that it bordered on painful.
She needed the anger to come soon, the bitterness that briefly surged in her earlier that evening. She wanted to feel it again; it was the only thing that could prevent her from doing something stupid.
But the resentment never came. Or if it did, it didn’t have a chance of winning out over the other things she was feeling for him at that moment.
And so she laid there, completely wrapped in the memories and the scent of him, in the intimacy of being in his bed, until finally by some miracle, she fell into the merciful refuge of s looked down"> shoulderleep.

The next morning Lauren awoke with a strange feeling. It was some combination of foreboding and acceptance, like she knew something bad had just happened, but she also knew getting upset over it wouldn’t change anything.