What Love Is

Chapter 19

Yep, I suck. I've been away for a while. It was spring break, and I got pretty distracted. I know this isn't fantastic or anything, but it was pretty funny to write. I love my characters so much.

-Brittany

Mindlessly Drew rolled over, eyes heavy with sleep and sated exhaustion. Downy, comfortable sheets rustled against his nude form as he stretched his legs out, inwardly groaning in pleasure from the relief in his muscles. There was a solid darkness behind his eyelids, promising more hours of blissful sleep to come. That was the precise moment when a tangled mess of fur rammed into his face.

Startled, he fumbled backwards, blinking profusely as he tried to distinguish his attacker. His alarmed nerves settled as he recognized Rowan’s sleeping form, and the fur as her nest of bedhead. She grunted in her slumber as he eased himself back down, her mattress squeaking beneath him.

She needed a new mattress, he mused, recalling the past couple of nights he’d spent here in North Carolina. It wouldn’t do to continue to make love on a piece of equipment that screamed with every movement made; and with Rowan, well…that made it virtually impossible to keep the bed quiet. With them being the only two in the house now, it wasn’t technically a problem, but when Seth came back he was going to make sure his nights spent here weren’t distinguishable by a squealing mattress.

Where was her clock? He glanced around sleepily, eyes landing on her bedside digital. He’d always been an early riser, so it wasn’t shocking for him to discover the numbers 6:18 on the screen. He had time to shower and cook breakfast before Rowan awoke, but he was just so damn comfortable…

The bed dove inward suddenly and his body bounced under the covers, sending him sprawling on to his stomach. He searched upward, fully alert, bewildered.

Rowan was scrambling underneath the blanket, bouncing on the bed as she attempted to untangle herself. When she finally broke free, she whipped her head around, looking all for the world like a crazy psycho with her hair fluffed out over her scalp and her eyes as round as saucers.

“Uh,” Drew grunted, rubbing his particularly sleepy left eye. “Morning?”

She stared at him for a moment more, and he watched, amused, as a broad smile formed on her lips. There were faint red lines on her face from where her cheek had been against the pillow all night.

“Guess what,” she bit her lip, obviously hardly containing her excitement. Drew yawned, drawing Rowan’s blanket tighter around himself. Her thrashing had allowed most of the warmth under the cover to escape, and now chills ran up and down his skin. This house was freezing cold in the morning, much to his chagrin.

He cocked an eyebrow at her, wishing for his previous comfy state.

“You haven’t guessed,” she shoved on his arm under the blanket, and he muttered in protest as more cold rushed under. “Come on, Drew.”

Drew already knew the reason for her incessant prodding this early in the morning, but he decided to play along anyway. She looked adorable in her childish excitement. “What?” he replied, feigning utter boredom, and her face lit up like the tree in the living room downstairs.

“It’s Christmas,” she gleefully answered, lifting her arms above her head as she followed up her announcement with an exaggerated dance. He rocked with the mattress, mumbling into the side of the pillow for her to stop, while Rowan danced and shook the whole damn bed. “It’s Christmas morrrrrrrniiinngg, Christmas moooorrrrnnniiiinnnggg…”

“Yes, it’s Christmas,” Drew agreed. “Can we go back to sleep?”

She eyed him with a look of mock outrage and offense, ceasing her dancing. “Go back to sleep? On Christmas morning? Andrew Mathis, did you even have a childhood?”