Amber awoke slowly at first, her eyes closed as she tried to snuggle closer to Spencer. Her eyes flicked open when she realized something was wrong. It took her a few seconds to get her bearings. She was laying in her own bed.
Wait! Not on the couch?
It was at that point she realized she had asked Spencer to let her fall asleep in his arms, but in her exhaustion, hadn't really thought it through what would happen afterward. He had either carried her up to her bed or she was so out of it that she'd walked up and retained no memory. That last thought, in light of recent events, sent a small chill down her spine. However, a few more moments of introspection yielded no grogginess beyond what anyone felt when first waking up. Her memories of the night before were all intact.
She sat up on her elbows and looked around, everything a bit blurry without her glasses. Her grandmother's quilt that was normally folded across the back of the rocking chair was spread across her as she lay on the top of her comforter. She half expected Spencer to be next to her, but he was not in the room and there was no sign that he had been in the bed. There was a hint of regret at that realization.
Perhaps he's in the bathroom?
She listened, but couldn't hear any activity from the hallway.
As she pulled her legs out from under the blanket and sat up, she found her glasses neatly folded on the nightstand. She was still dressed in her clothes from the previous evening, now wrinkled to the point they would send a 1950's housewife into a dead faint. Her watch said 5:22 AM.
She stepped out into the hallway and turned to the bathroom. The door was wide open and the room empty. After taking care of business, she stopped to wash her hands and give her teeth a quick brush. A Post-It note was stuck to the handle:
Sorry -- even my evil genius superpowers have their limits and this one defied me.
Huh?
She had to think about it for a bit. Then she thought about how he had obviously carried her up to her room to put her to bed.
Maybe he meant that he couldn't brush my teeth while I was asleep?
A thought crossed her mind.
He was a gentleman when I pretty much passed out at the pool house. He said he slept out on the couch. Maybe he's downstairs?
She decided to make a quick detour back into her room to strip out of her wrinkled clothes. Eyeing her options, she put on a pair of flannel pajama bottoms and a tank top, enjoying the feel of the soft fabric against her skin.
These will be much more comfortable to cuddle in
, she thought with a small smile. As she left the closet and was putting her hair up in a ponytail, she happened to glance at her clock on the nightstand. A Post-It note was stuck to the top.
Huh. Must have missed that earlier.
She stepped over and pulled it off.
Check the desk.
Curious, Amber looked over at the small desk against the wall. A piece of notebook paper was neatly folded into thirds with a fanciful capital "A" on the front. She unfolded it to see a note inside:
Amber - It's a little after 1:00 am. I really enjoyed this evening. It was wonderful spending time with you and trying to "untangle that cardigan". I hope you feel we made as much progress as I do. I dozed off holding you on the couch but when I woke up, I had that awkward dilemma of whether I should stay or go. We hadn't really discussed it. If I stayed, would I be overextending my welcome? If I left, does it seem like I'm ditching you? I decided that overstaying was the greater risk, but want you to know that I really didn't want to leave. Watching you sleep in my arms felt really nice.
I figured you would sleep better in your own bed, but had to poke around a couple of doors before I found it. Sorry about that; I wasn't trying to snoop. I thought you might wake up, but you really were tired.
Call me later?
- S
Amber smiled to herself.
So he's not downstairs after all.
She contemplated going back to bed, but despite her initial grogginess, found herself oddly alert.
Maybe all that sleep did me some good?
She decided to go downstairs and take care of the dessert bowls. As she approached the coffee table, she noticed that the blanket from last night's snuggle was neatly folded and back in its place. The bowls were gone too. She made her way into the kitchen and found them washed and sitting in the dish rack. Another note was stuck to one of them.
Didn't want to make too much noise putting these away. I'm not a ninja.
As she put the bowls away, Amber felt somewhat giddy. What a change twenty-four hours could make. She was much more clear-headed and found his actions and notes very sweet.
Just some more proof that he really is a gentleman and you really fucked up yesterday,
whispered the darkness of her inner guilt.
Amber cringed at herself.
No! No, we said we were going to put that behind us.
The voice sullenly receded.