Chapter 15: The Bed

They had pushed the cot against Devin's bed in the garage apartment, and it made one wide, lumpy mattress.

Cal had put a clean quilt over it.

I hadn't meant to lie down.

I sat on the edge to take my shoes off and said, "Give me five minutes before we talk about Dale."

Devin said, "Take ten."

I lay back.

The quilt smelled like cedar and Cal's soap.

The next thing I knew, the window was orange.

I didn't move.

I could hear two people breathing, and neither of them was in the bed.

I turned my head.

Cal sat on the floor with his back against the wall and his knees up.

Devin sat in the desk chair, turned around backward, with his chin on his arms.

Both of them were looking at me.

Somebody had pulled the quilt up to my shoulders and taken my socks off.

"How long?" I said.

"Five hours," Devin said.

"You didn't wake me."

"You needed it."

"You were here the whole time."

"We didn't touch you," Cal said. "I want you to know that. We didn't touch you."

His voice was rough.

He sounded proud of it and miserable.

I sat up on one elbow.

"Not once?"

"You were asleep, Kate."

"Right."

"You said awake," Devin said. "You said out loud."

I looked at the two of them, sitting as far from the bed as the room allowed.

I thought about the couch, and the afghan, and Cal's palm on my ankle in the dark.

Something hot went up my spine, and it wasn't entirely temper.

"You didn't mind before," I said.

Cal's head came up.

"What?"

"The couch. The stairs. A whole night of your hands on me while I lay there with my eyes shut."

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