Mistakes Were Made(80)

It was freeing, to be in Boston. On a whim. For a girl. It was … impulsive, in a way Erin hadn’t been in a long time. Early on in college, she and Rachel would occasionally decide on Friday afternoons that they wanted to go away for the weekend. They’d find the cheapest hotel and most expensive booze they could afford and spend the weekend drunk in a hotel room. But Erin had been a dutiful mom, wife, doctor for so long. Predictable. Expected. This was more fun.

Maybe Erin should’ve been upset Cassie would be spending the summer in Boston. If she were smart, she’d want distance between them. When Cassie just lived in Erin’s phone, it was easier to not think about what they were doing. Seeing Cassie in person—Erin thought of the woman she’d left sleeping in the hotel bed. Cassie’s hair spread wide across the pillow.

She knew she was being stupid. She knew she was making a mistake, every time she smiled at Cassie.

It would be different, this time, from what it had been at Christmas. Erin was denying herself then, or trying to. Over Christmas, Erin had been flying by the seat of her pants, trying to figure out how to get through it. Now, she hardly had the excuse of acting without thinking. She’d had months to think about it. She tried not to, and certainly never admitted to. She and Cassie had never acknowledged the change in their relationship, but they’d been texting every day for more than a month. Since Valentine’s weekend, there had been a day or two when Erin hadn’t talked to Rachel; not a single day passed that she didn’t talk to Cassie.

Erin had lost the ability to tell herself this was just sex. There was lying to yourself and then there was straight up delusion, and this fell more in the latter.

So she didn’t tell herself anything.

In her marriage, she’d spent so long knowing what she wanted and not allowing herself to have it, not allowing herself to even think about it. When she would think about it, she’d talk herself out of it. She did that too often—second-guessed herself into discontent. So, with Cassie, Erin just … didn’t think about it. She knew what she wanted, and for once in her life, she let herself have it.

Cassie was spread across the bed, legs on one side, arms stretching to the other, when Erin returned with a drink carrier in one hand and a pastry bag in the other, a copy of the Globe tucked under one elbow. Cassie looked up at her.

“Oh.”

“Morning.” Erin pressed her lips together instead of beaming. Even when it was only the two of them, being this happy felt like it wasn’t allowed. “I hope you didn’t miss me too much.”

Cassie pushed herself halfway up and jutted her chin out. Erin took her cue and dropped a kiss on that mouth. Cassie grinned at her when she pulled away.

“What’d you get me?”

“Coffee,” Erin said, holding out the carrier so Cassie’s drink was within her reach. “And lemon loaf or zucchini bread. Which do you want?”

“Whichever you don’t.”

Cassie got herself situated in the bed. She was still naked but made no move to get dressed, sitting with her back against the headboard, the sheet tucked around her torso. Erin shrugged out of her jacket.

“Uh,” Cassie said. “You’re in my shirt.”

Erin looked down. She’d put on the first thing she found on the floor of the hotel room—whatever got her to good coffee fastest. She hadn’t realized until now that it was Cassie’s white T-shirt.

“Is that okay? I can take it off if you want.”

“No,” Cassie said immediately. “No, uh. It’s fine.” Her cheeks were bright pink.

Erin should wear her clothes more often.

Cassie took a sip of her drink. The bliss on her face at the taste was worth teasing her over, but she was still blushing from the shirt thing, so Erin gave her a break instead.

Erin had a shift at the hospital that afternoon. It’d be smart to head back to Nashua early. She wasn’t even sure she had a clean set of scrubs. She peeled her jeans off and climbed back into bed with Cassie. She wasn’t trying anything, didn’t mean to be sexy, but she settled close enough that her body pressed into Cassie’s. Just as she remembered Parker saying Cassie didn’t like being touched, Cassie threw her leg over Erin’s, crossing them at the ankle.

They split the baked goods—took half of each. Erin unfolded the newspaper. She kept the first section and offered the rest to Cassie, who immediately flipped through it to find the crossword puzzle. The quiet was nice. They didn’t have to do anything. Didn’t have to be careful, didn’t have to watch the clock or listen for Parker.

They could’ve had this in October, if Erin had invited Cassie back to her hotel that night. Then again—maybe not. They wouldn’t have had a quiet morning in bed together. Erin would’ve rushed Cassie out the door. She didn’t know her, then, and she’d been nervous that morning, meeting Parker for breakfast. Jesus, imagine if Cassie had spent the night, said goodbye in the morning, and then they’d shown up at the same restaurant. As though it hadn’t already been messy enough.

“You’ll probably know this one,” Cassie said, still working on the crossword. “First female graduate of a US medical school, starts with a—”

“Elizabeth Blackwell,” Erin said.

“Nerd.”

Erin bumped her shoulder against Cassie’s. “As if you can’t tell me the first female US astronaut.”