Shifting uncomfortably, her body starting to ache from being in the same position for most of the night, Kelly stretched out as best as she could on her side of the bed. Turning to face Tate, who was snoring softly, her eyes traced his silhouette in the dark, memorizing it. Swallowing the lump that had risen in her throat, she turned away once more. Tears stung her eyes.
Not wanting to start crying again, and definitely not in Tate’s company, she quietly slipped out of bed. Stepping into a pair of loose sweats, she turned in a circle, looking for her phone. Pursing her lips, she shook her head when she realized it was probably still sitting on the kitchen counter. She hadn’t grabbed it before heading to bed for the night.
Sneaking down the ladder, she cringed as the last rung squeaked.
