When Andrew awoke the next morning, he blinked rapidly in the brightness. He looked around his bedroom, taking in the familiar sights. Even though he wasn't living there permanently, he still felt at home. There was a reason why he had chosen the bed under the eaves.

The exposed wooden beams overhead were centuries-old, well-worn and etched by time's hand. Several sunlights had been carved into the roof overhead, drenching the loft in light. The wall behind his headboard was exposed stone, worn down by generations of fingers rubbing against it. He looked across the bed and found it empty.

Molly wasn't next to him and the sheets had gone cold. For a moment, he let himself entertain the idea that he had actually dreamt the previous night with her, that she hadn't taken him to this magic hole-in-the-wall filled with words, that he hadn't helped a drunken man stumble home, that she hadn't left articles of clothing strewn across the cottage as she made her way up to his bed. Yes, it had to have been a dream, the way she felt beneath his body as he emptied himself into her.

When he sat up, he knew he couldn't possibly have dreamt it; her skirt was still where she'd dropped it hours beforehand, on the floor. He walked across the wooden floors, ducking under a beam as he moved to the bathroom. After relieving himself, me pulled on his boxers and made his way down the spiral staircase, picking up the over shirt Molly had worn that morning. It still smelled of her.

Birds were chirping outside, even though a soft rain fell. Somehow, the windows in the lounge room had been left open and a gentle cool breeze blew through, disturbing the curtains. As he made his way toward the kitchen at the back of the house, he heard her soft humming and he stood in the doorway, watching her.

She was bathed in light as she stood at the kitchen sink, rinsing a pot. Her raven hair was gathered into a messy top knot on top of her head and she had on one of his well-worn t-shirts, with little else. He admired the curve of her back and the way the shirt fell just below her ass. She brought a hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. There was a simple beauty about the way she made even the most mundane activities come alive.

Bubbles crackled under her sponge as she scrubbed on the pot. Occasionally it clunked against the side of the sink. Her breasts swayed as she moved and she stood with her feet slightly turned in. It was like watching a dream. In the light, her freckled olive skin glowed. He felt himself harden at the sight of her.

"Morning," he sighed, crossing the room and wrapping his arms around her from behind. He pressed himself against her ass, kissing her neck softly.

She smiled. "Very good morning to you," she replied. Molly pushed back agsinst him, looking over her shoulder coyly.

He brought his hands down to her hips and lifted the hem of his shirt, tracing his calloused fingers across the soft skin of her hipbones. Andrew smiled as he slid his fingers across her ass, squeezing the flesh he found there. He hiked the shirt up around her rib cage, grazing his nails against her skin.

"Andrew," her voice was half moan, half warning.

"Molly," he replied, a smile on his voice as he ground into her.

"Let me finish," she insisted, though her breath hitched as he nibbled on her ear.

He slid his fingers between her thighs and found her clit. She nearly dropped the pot in the suds as he drew lazy circles around the tiny bundle of nerves. His teeth found her shoulder through the shirt. Her thighs started shaking just as she finished rinsing the pot. He took it from her with his free hand and set it down on the bench top next to her.

Forgetting himself, he slid his boxers down and pushed inside her in one smooth motion. Condoms would have been the smart thing to use at that point in time, but he didn't have the patience to faff about with one. And he knew Molly didn't care, either. The night beforehand, she'd been on top of him before he even had a chance to put one on.

God bless birth control, he thought as he gripped her hips.

He moved slowly, letting his hands roam across her body. They settled on her breasts, squeezing them gently. Her moans bounced off the ceiling, ringing from the pots and pans that hung along the wall over the stove. Her knees started to shake and then gave way underneath her.

"I've got you," he whispered against her ear, scooping her up.

He put her on the empty bench top behind him before sliding into her once again. Molly's fingers dug into his bare skin and she threw her head back in ecstasy. His teeth showed her exposed neck no mercy, scraping and nipping as he thrust.

Andrew pushed her back on the bench until she was laying down. He cursed at the change in angle. He tore the t-short off of her with a growl before leaning over top of her. She moaned and tangled her fingers in his hair when he dragged his tongue across her chest.

"Fuck, Andrew!" It was her turn to curse and clench around him, her legs shaking. Her back arched up and he smiled as she writhed in front of him.

He loved it.

He loved watching her.

He loved hearing her moan his name.

He loved knowing he was doing that to her.

His long fingers trailed across her body, leaving marks on her skin as they went. They settled on the curve of her hips. He thrust hard and slow, biting his lip in concentration. Unfortunately, there was only so long he could last.

"Ah fuck," he cursed as he felt that familiar tug in his balls.

He came fast and hard before collapsing onto his hands on the bench top. It took him several seconds to catch his breath. He looked down at Molly when her hands came up to caress his face. Her almond-shaped eyes were melted chocolate again and he kissed her softly before standing up.

"Good morning," she smiled lazily as she sat up. She kissed him. "I'd offer you some porridge, but I think its gone cold now," she said, gesturing to two bowls on the other side of the kitchen. "Now we'll have to go out for something."

He laughed. "You didn't have to make me anything."

"I was up. I figured I may as well," she explained.

"Thank you all the same," he smiled. He leaned over and picked up his boxers. "I'm gonna grab a shower. Care to join me?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

She smirked. "But of course."

After a quick shower (and a quickie in the shower, they were dressed and ready to go. He watched through his mirror as Molly swallowed a minuscule white pill while he brushed out his hair.

Upon seeing him watching her, so smiled. "No babies."

He laughed. "Please no."

"Do you ever see yourself having kids?" she asked, sitting on the food of the bed to watch him.

"Probably. I mean, one day for sure," he said. "But right now, it would just be a terrible thing. The last album, I toured for two-and-a-half years, almost straight. It'll be the same for the next one I put out, I imagine - at least eighteen months." He tied his hair up into a bun at the crown of his head. "But maybe one day, yeah. I'd love to be a dad if I found the right person."

"That's what I thought you'd say," she said, following him down the staircase.

"Oh?"

She nodded as she sat to put her socks and boots on. "Mmmhmm. You seem like a guy that would be happy retiring from all the fame and shit to a wife and kids on a goat farm in the country."

"A goat farm, eh?" he joked, coming up behind her.

"Yeah. I think you'd do well with them. They seem like your kind of animal," she replied, standing up. "Leo's?" she asked.

"But of course," Andrew smiled.

"After that, I should probably go home," Molly said as they walked out of the door.

"Wearing second-day underwear is not a good look on anyone," he quipped while he locked up.

"Who says I'm wearing any?" she said with a smirk as she navigated the gate.

The image of her not wearing anything under her already-short skirt made him double over in frustration. Its not fucking fair, he whined internally.

"You coming?" she called from up the street.

"I wish I was," he muttered under his breath as he followed her.

They walked through town, getting quite a few stares. While he had changed into something a bit more daytime-friendly, Molly was still in her short skirt and boots from the night beforehand. He was fairly certain at least three grandmotherly women shook their heads in disgust upon seeing her strut past. When they finally made it to Leo's on the strand, he was sure half of the town had seen Molly's mostly-bare legs.

Andrew ordered while Molly found a seat for them at the back and soon, they were sipping coffee and munching on pastries.

"You don't put anything in your coffee?" she asked, nodding to his cup as she stirred in a creamer.

He shook his head and lifted his mug to his mouth. "I like it black, like my heart," he quipped before taking a sip.

She smiled. "What are you going to do today?"

He sighed and put his mug down. "I should probably get some writing done."

He hadn't really sat down and focused on writing for the last few days. He'd been too busy thinking of Molly. In truth, he was beginning to wonder if she was more of a distraction than an aide. He found his mind drifting to thoughts of her more than music and he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

"What about you? Anything fun planned?" he asked, uncomfortable with the focus being on him.

She chewed on her bottom lip. "Not really. I might go into Dublin again and spend time with Jamie. She invited me shopping."

"How's Chester?" he asked with a smile. "Horrible hangover?"

She nodded as she picked at her pastry. "As usual. Lucky he didn't have to work today."

"Do you miss Dublin?"he asked, remembering the multitude of late nights he'd spent wandering the streets of the capitol.

"Yes and no," she answered. "I miss the nightlife, but I'm actually enjoying discovering the countryside. I actually want to go camping up in the mountains soon."

"I'll take you!" he said eagerly. "I love going up into the mountains. My dad used to take my brother and I all the time, when he wasn't playing gigs. I know some great spots."

"Your dad was a musician?" she asked.

He nodded. "Yep. That's how I started. It was always around us at home. I guess it was inevitable, in a way."

Molly smiled. "That's really cool, actually. My parents -," she cut herself off. He looked at her expectantly. She cleared her throat. "Let's just say my parents wouldn't have supported me if I wanted to become a musician," she finished.

Something about her changed. It was as if the light inside of her had dimmed slightly. He wanted to ask more, to discover what caused her to change so suddenly, but his mind warned him against it. Its a summer romance. Best not to learn too much, lest you get attached, he thought. Instead, he nudged her foot under the table, avoiding her gaze. When the sunlight returned to her face, he knew the moment had passed.

"Ready?" Andrew asked when they finished eating.

"Don't tell me you want to walk me home again," she sighed.

He smiled. "But of course. My mother would kill me if she heard I let you walk home alone."

Molly rolled her eyes and took his hand. "Come on then. If it gets any later, you'll never get any writing done."

They left the cafe and started toward the other side of town. Halfway up the Strand, however, his heart jumped into his throat. His mother was walking toward them, waving happily. He instantly dropped Molly's hand and started to panic.

"So, ehm, Molly, don't freak out, but -," he started. But he was cut off by his mother's voice.

"Andy!" his mother called, waving at him.

"What?" Molly asked, looking up at him in confusion.

And just like that, his day became a hundred times more awkward. Molly looked between him and his mother, confusion etched on her face. His mother looked quite the opposite, pleased and cheerful, happy to see him with a girl. He was wading into the lion's den.

"Andy, its so nice to see you," his mother smiled when she came to a stop in front of him. She hugged him tightly. "I haven't heard from you for a few days. Was beginning to get worried." Her eye settled on Molly. "Raine Hozier-Byrne," she said, holding her hand out. "Who might you be?"

Andrew cleared his throat. "This is Molly. She's my girl - friend - friend girl - she's a friend who's a girl," he stammered, hating himself the whole time.

From the twinkle in his mother's eye, he knew he was fucked eight ways to hell and back. "Molly? Nice to meet you. Its always nice to meet Andy's friends. Especially the friend-girls," she teased, smirking at her son.

Andrew died a little inside.

"Nice to meet you," Molly said politely. She looked at him and he knew a world's worth of terrible, snarky, sarcastic shit was begging to be released from her cherry-red lips.

"You must be the girl my son has been spending all of his time with these days," his mother continued. "I can see why. You're very pretty."

His mother was far more forward than he liked at times. This was one of those times.

"Thank you," Molly said, still smiling.

"I'm actually glad I ran into you, Andy. I wanted to invite you to dinner tomorrow night," his mother said. "Its been ages since we had a proper Sunday dinner."

He narrowed his eyes. "We...never...have Sunday dinner," he remarked, suspicion tinging his words.

"Never too late to start new traditions, then, eh?" she replied. "Besides, now you're home for a while, I'd like to spend as much time with you as I can." She turned to Molly. "I insist that you join us tomorrow evening."

Andrew wished the ground would open up and Satan himself would crook his finger for him to join the land of the damned. I would have been preferable to the current hell he was facing.

"Oh, I couldn't put you out like that," Molly said, shaking her head.

"Nonsense. I insist. I want to hear all about this girl my Andy has been cavorting around town with these past few weeks," Raine said.

"Cavorting? We haven't been cavorting," he protested. "Who told you that? She's just a friend."

"And any friend of yours is welcome in our home," Raine said, ignoring his question. "Five sharp. Your brother will have the barbecue on by six. Don't be late."

And just like that, his mother started walking down the road again, shopping in hand. He wasn't sure if he should follow her or continue on with Molly. Molly won. She was walking up the road slowly, humming the same tune from that morning.

"That song," he asked when he caught up to her. "Where is it from?"

"Oh, its just a tune my mom used to hum to us - my brother and sister and I - when we were young," she said.

"Does it have any words?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Nope. It never really did. Just a melody."

"Hmm. I like it. Hum it again," he asked.

As she hummed, his eye caught on a bird that flew across their path before resting on top of a nearby tree. He watched it for several seconds until it took flight again, chirping as it flew.

"So about tomorrow -," he started.

"I'll meet you in town at 4:30," she cut him off.

He was stunned. "I-I was going to say you don't have to come," he stammered. "I get it if you don't want to. I would never ask you to meet my family. You know, since we're just..."

"Fucking?" she smirked at him.

"I was gonna say friends, but that too," he smiled nervously. "I get it if that's too much for you."

She shook her head. "No actually. It'll be nice. Diana and the kids have gone off to Spain for a month now the kids are out of school. Its lonely at the house, all by myself." They walked for a few steps. "But I get it if you don't want me to come. I can see the benefits of maintaining a distance."

"Its not that. I just...I don't want my parents to get the wrong idea," he explained. "Y'know, since this isn't exactly...something...long term."

In truth, he didn't know what it was. They'd had no conversation about it and it didn't seem like one would happen anytime soon, either. What he did know, was that he enjoyed spending time with her, that his mind drifted to thoughts of her smile and her skin and her laugh more often than he cared to admit.

"We're friends. That's all they need to know," she answered, nodding.

The rest of their walk passed in comfortable silence. He was half-tempted to follow her into the guest cottage after they arrived, but the melody she'd been humming earlier had set his mind to turn. He returned to his own house, lyrics on his tongue and the sparking of a song in his finger tips.

***

The next afternoon, Andrew met Molly outside a Tesco. His parent's house was not a far walk, but it was just enough for the haze of songwriting to fade and the nerves to kick in. He'd spent the rest of the day prior and the better part of that morning writing and he lost all focus on Molly meeting his parents. But now, as they walked, each step felt like he was wading through molasses.

He didn't even know why; he knew his parents would probably pick up on something happening between the two of them. But he didn't necessarily care about that. What he couldn't shake was the feeling that he was about to give Molly far more information than she likely needed, that he was about to bare more of himself to someone who had all the power in the world to use it against him. He knew shockingly little about her family, but here he was inviting her into his own.

His parents' home still looked like it did when he was a child: a typical bungalow house at the end of the street with hedgerows along the front. While other homes had been painted white or grey, Andrew's mother had defied the town counsel and slapped several bright coats of cheery yellow on the cement, though he could see places where it was chipping away from the elements. The front gate was rusted and the hinges creaked when he swung it open. He briefly wondered how it could be the same house from his memories, but then he remembered that memories exist in time. And time had done a number here; it was a decaying thing of beauty.

He dropped Molly's hand before they reached the door. "You can still go," he asked, one last time.

Unfortunately, the words weren't out of his mouth fully before the door flew open and his brother was standing on the other side. "Andy! And you brought your friend-girl," Jon said grinning. He pushed Andrew past him and took Molly in. "I'm Jon. Nice to meet you."

As usual, Molly had dressed for the occasion perfectly. A deep red sun dress accentuated enough of her form to rouse interest, but not enough to draw too much attention. Her hair was pulled back into a French braid that trailed down between her shoulder blades. She paired the dress with the same simple sandals she'd worn the first day he showed her around. She was the picture of innocence - even if he knew differently.

"Molly, the pleasure is mine," she answered, offering her hand.

"Ah, good. You've arrived," another voice called through the house.

A second later, his father appeared in his wheelchair. Andrew watched Molly for her reaction, knowing that this would be the most shocking part of the day. She barely blinked and her smile did not falter.

"Andy, you must introduce me to this beautiful young woman in front of me," his father insisted.

"Dad, this is Molly Stanley," he said quickly before Jon could cut in with one of his jokes.

She extended her hand to him. "Pleased to meet you."

"A Yank!" John replied. "Name's John Byrne. Lovely to meet you."

"Jon! You'd best get the barbecue going! It looks like rain!" his mother's voice came from across the house.

"That's my cue," Jon said as he rushed out of the room.

"So, Molly, what part of the United States are you from?" John asked, wheeling himself over to a pair of crutches leaning against the wall.

"Los Angeles, in California, originally," she replied.

John began to waiver slightly as he stood and before Andrew could reach him, Molly steadied him with an arm around his shoulders. He found his crutches and put his weight on them.

"Thank you," he told her with a smile.

Molly's eyes met Andrew's from across the room and he didn't see the pity or sadness that usually appeared when his friends met his father for the first time. Instead he saw kindness and understanding. He had braced himself for a litany of sarcasm from her, since it was really the only way she communicated with him. But he was pleasantly surprised with the woman standing in front of him, exchanging genuine conversation with his sweet old dad.

The three of them chatted for several minutes before his mother appeared in the lounge room. "Molly, dear. Good to see you again," she said.

"You as well, Mrs. Hozier-Byrne," Molly answered.

Andrew almost laughed. "No one calls her that. Just Raine will do."

Molly made a face. "Whoops. Sorry."

"Not a big deal," Raine replied, patting Molly's shoulder. "I hope I didn't put you on the spot yesterday, Molly."

"No, you didn't," Molly said. "Its nice to meet Andrew's family."

"So Molly, what brings you to our fair corner of Ireland?" John asked as he slowly walked through to the kitchen.

"University," she said. "I was part of an international exchange student program at Trinity College."

John gave her a surprised look. "Really? Andy went there for a bit!"

She smiled and looked at him from across the room. "I know. He told me. He was in the music program there."

"What are you studying?" Raine asked as she followed John in.

"Law actually," Molly answered.

"She's in law school at Berkeley in America," Andrew added.

"Berkeley! My, that's really prestigious, isn't it?" Raine said.

"Molly's by far the best girl you've brought home," Jon added from the back garden. His voice drifted in through the open sliding door.

Andrew's face burned red. "She's just a friend, Jon," he insisted.

"What type of law are you planning to study?" Raine asked, setting the kitchen table.

"I'm not entirely sure," Molly answered. "I'll be in my second year in the fall, and that's when we start to focus on specialties." She helped Raine arrange the forks and knives. "I've been reading old human trafficking cases recently and its really sparked an interest for me."

"That's a noble cause to take up," John said as he sat at the head of the table. "Very difficult circumstances all around."

"That's true," Molly replied. "Laws on human trafficking are still being written and they are easily some of the hardest to uphold and enforce."

Andrew watched in awe as Molly launched into a discussion with his father, detailing several different cases she'd studied at Trinity that focused on human trafficking law. He smiled as her eyes lit up as she spoke. Her passion shined through and he could easily see that law was the path she was meant to be on.

"Move your ass," Jon said, pushing past him with a plate of hamburgers.

Andrew moved to a seat at one end of the table, hoping Molly would sit next to him. His hopes were dashed when Jon took the empty seat, forcing Molly to sit on his mother's side.

"So have you seen much while you've been in town?" Jon asked, passing around the plate of burgers.

"A few things," Molly said. "But I was telling Andrew the other day that I really wanted to go camping up in the mountains. In Los Angeles, we have to drive hours just to find a place that's not crawling full of people," she said as she took a hamburger bun. "You have no idea how lucky you are to have all of this land that's completely empty."

"Oh, we know," Raine smiled. "Its a blessing. Did Andy tell you about the times when John would take both of them up to camp in the mountains?"

"He only mentioned it," Molly said. "But I bet it was loads of fun. I've never actually been camping before."

The room fell to silence. "You never have?" John asked in shock. Molly shook her head. "Then, Andy, you've got to take her."

"Yeah, Andy. Let's take her camping. Bring a few of the lads, too. It'll be a great weekend," Jon suggested. "What about next weekend?" he suggested.

"That sounds great!" Molly said, smiling.

Andrew had no choice but to nod in agreement. "Ehm - yeah. Yeah, that's a great idea."

In truth, he'd been wanting to take Molly up to the mountains by himself. The idea of several of his friends and his brother joining them had not crossed his mind for a reason.

"What other things do you think I should see?" Molly asked his parents.

"How long are you here for?" Raine asked.

"Until the beginning of August," Molly said.

And then it hit Andrew how little time he really had with her. It was already the second week of May. His heart sank a little as he counted the number of days before she had to go. The rest of the meal, Molly was regaled with stories of him as a child, and he was happy to be the punchline of his brother's jokes just to see her smile. But when the family photo albums emerged after dessert had been served, he was ready to crawl into a hole in the back garden.

"Oh my God, you look so different with short hair!" Molly squealed as she looked at photos with his mother. "You were so cute!"

"I don't know what happened," Jon ribbed him. "Come on. Help with the washing up."

He followed his brother into the kitchen while his parents continued speaking with Molly in the lounge.

"So, you found yourself an American," Jon smirked as Andrew cleared the table. "Lucky you."

"Oh for fuck's sake, we're just friends," Andrew insisted.

Jon nodded and turned on the tap to fill the sink. "Alright, don't shout."

The brothers washed and dried the dishes while their parents entertained the young woman in the next room.

"Got to ask, though," Jon said as he dried the last plate. "Are you sleeping with her?"

Andrew glared at his older brother. "I'm not gonna fucking answer that."

Jon smiled to himself and put the plate down. "If you say so. You picked a pretty one, I'll give you that."

Two hours later, after all the photo albums had been looked at, after his father had told them stories of his years of performing, and after his mother had offered drinks several times, Andrew stood and stretched, announcing he needed to get home.

"Not a bad idea," Jon added, standing as well. "I need to get back to Dublin for the work week."

They said their goodbyes.

"Molly, you're welcome here anytime while you're still in Ireland," Raine added as they walked out the door.

"Thank you again," Molly answered as the older couple closed their front door.

"Do you want a ride home, Molly?" Jon offered. "Its on my way."

Andrew answered for her. "She's coming back with me."

"That answers one question," Jon muttered under his breath. He gathered his keys in his hand. "Alright. Have a safe walk. See you later. Molly -," he stopped as he opened his car door. "It was really lovely to meet you. I'll see you next weekend."

Andrew led her down the road toward his cottage. After a few seconds, Jon drove past them, honking his horn. Andrew waved at him as he passed.

"I'm sorry about tonight," he said immediately to Molly.

"What for?" she asked in surprise. "I had a great time."

"My parents can be -," he started.

"Charming and sweet?" she offered. "They were wonderful, really."

"Still. You know that I - ehm - that I would never have introduced you to them otherwise," he said. "I know this...thing between us isn't really serious."

"We're friends, aren't we? Surely I'm not the first friend  of yours that your parents have met," she reasoned.

"If you want to go camping next weekend without Jon or my other friends, I totally get it," he said. "I'm kind of angry that he even suggested it, to be honest."

"Don't be ridiculous," Molly laughed. "Of course I want to go. It'll be fun." She looked at him in the twilight. "Unless you'd like to keep me a secret frm your friends?"

"No! Of course not," he insisted. "I guess - I just thought that you might like to keep things more...private."

"No. Its fine," she smiled.

They walked in silence for a few minutes. "Thank you for not treating my dad differently," he said.

"How did you think I'd treat him?" She asked in surprise. "Just because he's in a wheelchair doesn't mean I shouldn't be kind to him. Kindness costs nothing, Andrew."

He stopped in the middle of the road, pulled her to his body, and kissed her deeply. He pushed her back against a tall fence on one side of the road. His hands roamed her body as a soft sigh escaped her mouth.

"Wh-what was that for?" Molly whispered breathlessly.

"Just felt like it," he sighed.

A car drove past, illuminating them in its headlights.

He smiled. "We'd better get going." They started walking again. "How come you never talk about your family or your childhood?" he asked.

She looked away from him. "I just don't."

He got the feeling that she had her fair share of secrets and didn't press. They continued walking in comfortable silence again until they came upon a group of young men walking up the road toward them. The men spoke in a foreign tongue that he'd heard many times before. Though he didn't know what it was called, he recognized the men. Molly stopped and stepped behind him, as if she was trying to hide.

When the group passed them, he turned to her. "They aren't going to hurt you," he assured her. "They're just Roma. They work at a lot of the resort places in town during the summers."

Molly nodded and looked over her should at the men behind them. "Are there a lot of them around here?" she asked.

"There's a group that live just outside of town on one big piece of land. I think they're all one family," Andrew explained. "People aren't really kind to them. Its a shame. They seem like nice people."

"Why aren't people kind to them?" she asked.

"They're different, I guess," he ran his hand through his hair. "People think they're thieves and criminals, but they aren't. They're hard workers and do a great job."

"What do you think?"

"I'm kind to everyone. As you said, kindness costs nothing," Andrew shrugged.

"I heard stories about Irish Travellers here, but not about Roma," Molly remarked.

He shrugged again. "I get the impression they like to keep to themselves. That's probably why you don't hear much about them."

They reached his cottage and he let her in. Moonlight shone through the sunlights above his bed. When they got into bed, he made to run his hands under her shirt, but she stopped him.

"Could we - could we just sleep tonight?" Molly asked, looking over her shoulder at him.

"Yeah, sure. Of course," he answered.

He snuggled up behind her and closed his eyes. When sleep didn't come easily, he opened them and watched her for some time. He found himself memorizing the curve of her lips and the perfect, sharp ski slope of her nose. He reached over and gently ran his finger along the edge of her jaw. He could count her dark eyelashes as they fluttered against her skin.

Before he knew it, his own eyes were closing and he found himself drifting off to sleep.