22| Sharing a Single Bedroom

Sophie and Ethan arrived at David's lake house late Friday evening.

The drive had been mostly quiet, except for the occasional moment when Sophie took over the radio and sang her heart out. She really couldn't stay still for too long.

As they pulled up the long gravel driveway, Sophie's mouth dropped in awe.

"Wow," she murmured, stepping out of the car.

The house looked like something out of a dream—tucked among tall, whispering trees with the moonlit lake stretching out just beyond.

Its modern design met rustic charm in perfect balance, with wide glass windows and stone accents blending seamlessly with the nature around it. Sophie thought Architectural Digest would be desperate to feature it.

A crisp breeze swept through the trees, and she shivered, rubbing her arms for warmth. She hadn't thought to grab a sweater before getting out of the car, and the evening air was colder than she'd expected.

Just then, the front door swung open, and David appeared, his grin wide and a bottle of red wine in his hand. "Ethan! Sophie! Welcome!"

He stepped forward, embracing Ethan with a friendly pat on the back and offering Sophie a warm, genuine smile. "I was just about to open this when I heard your car. Join me for a glass before I show you to your room?"

"That sounds perfect, thank you," Sophie replied, already feeling the comfort of David's presence.

Ethan nodded, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Do you just randomly have bottles of red on standby every night?"

David laughed. "Tonight demanded it," he said, ushering them inside.

The interior of the house was just as stunning as the outside—high vaulted ceilings, warm oak beams, and an expansive stone fireplace where a crackling fire cast a cozy glow. Everything about it felt deliberate, thoughtful.

"This place really came together," Ethan commented, his tone admiring as he took in the space.

David grinned, pouring each of them a glass of wine. "You'd know that if you'd come to see it when I invited you. Months ago," he added, his tone mock-scolding.

Then he turned to Sophie, pouring her a glass of wine. "I'm surprised he said yes at all. I'm guessing this was your doing?"

Sophie grinned, accepting the glass. "I'll happily take the credit."

David laughed. "Knew it. You're a miracle worker."

The three settled into the living room, the fire warming the space as they sipped their wine. David, ever the gracious host, chatted animatedly about the weekend's plans.

"We've got a full house tomorrow—a few friends coming up in the morning. But tonight, it's just us. We'll have a nice dinner, catch up, and take it easy."

Sophie nodded, the tension from the long drive beginning to slip away. "That sounds wonderful. I can't wait to meet your friends. I heard you all went to college together?"

"Yeah," David replied, leaning back in his chair. "Yeah, a few of us were at the same Ivy League school, studied the same courses. Ethan here, though? Overachiever. Double major, still made the Dean's list every semester."

Sophie raised her eyebrows and turned toward Ethan with an impressed smile. "You never mentioned that."

Ethan shook his head, clearly embarrassed. "David exaggerates."

"I don't exaggerate," David interjected, waving a hand dramatically. "I'm just giving credit where it's due. But—" he turned back to Sophie, eyes twinkling, "—for the record, I've banned him from doing any work this weekend. Officially. He's off the clock."

Ethan sighed, his lips quirking into a reluctant smile. "I got the message when you sent me that ridiculous 'contract' to sign."

Sophie's laughter bubbled out at the thought. "You did what?"

"It's just a thing we do," David said nonchalantly, taking another sip of his wine. "I sent him a contract to agree he wouldn't work."

"You do it, David," Ethan corrected, shaking his head.

David waved it off. "Hey, I just like things in writing."

Sophie laughed, appreciating the banter. She took another sip of wine, savoring its warmth and the cozy ambiance of the room. The fire crackled softly in the background, and everything about this place—the décor, the easy conversation—put her at ease.

As she settled deeper into her chair, something caught her attention. The faint, rhythmic lapping of water against the shore. Sophie's face lit up with curiosity. "I can hear the lake," she said softly, leaning forward.

"You can," David said, smiling. "Want to see it? You won't see much at night, but the view from the balcony is still pretty special."

"I'd love to see it," Sophie replied, her excitement evident.

David led them through the house to a sprawling balcony that overlooked the lake. The cool air greeted them as they stepped outside, and Sophie shivered slightly but didn't care. The moonlight stretched over the water, creating a silver path that shimmered against the dark surface.

"Wow," she whispered, leaning against the railing. "It's beautiful."

Ethan stood beside her, his posture finally relaxed. "Yeah," he said softly, his voice low. "It really is."

David stood back, letting them take it in. "You should see it at sunrise. The way the light hits the water? It's unforgettable."

Sophie smiled, imagining the sight. The tranquility of the lake and the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze were mesmerizing, and for the first time in days, her thoughts stopped racing.

"I'll let dinner get set up," David said, backing toward the door with a grin. "Enjoy the view while you can."

"Thanks, David," they both replied in unison.

For a few moments, neither Sophie nor Ethan spoke as they stood side by side, the quiet between them surprisingly comfortable. Sophie found herself sneaking a glance at Ethan, the firelight from inside casting soft shadows on his face. He looked peaceful in a way she hadn't seen in a while.

"Are you cold?" Ethan asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

"A little," Sophie admitted, though she didn't move.

Without a word, Ethan shrugged off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders. The warmth of it and the faint scent of his cologne made her heart flutter, but she kept her gaze on the water, afraid to look at him and give herself away.

"Thank you," she said softly.

Dinner was just as cozy as the rest of the evening. David was a natural host, effortlessly steering the conversation with stories and laughter. The food was delicious—simple but hearty—and the wine flowed freely.

Sophie felt herself loosening up as the night went on, laughing at David's jokes and even catching Ethan smiling more than once. But eventually, the long day caught up with them, and they called it a night.

*******

Sophie made her way into the bedroom, her heart sinking a little when she saw the single, large bed in the center of the room. It was elegant and comfortable-looking, but clearly meant for two people to share. Her cheeks warmed at the realization—she and Ethan had never shared a bed before.

How was she supposed to get through the night?

Ethan followed in soon after, his sharp gaze flicking to the bed before landing on her. He looked just as hesitant as she felt. "I can take the couch in the living room," he offered after a beat, his tone casual but his expression unsure. "Or I'll find another empty room if you'd be more comfortable."

Sophie shook her head, forcing a small smile. She didn't want to make things more awkward than they already were, and the thought of anyone finding out they were sleeping separately—especially since they were newly married—seemed even worse.

"No, Ethan, it's fine," she said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "We can share the bed. It's big enough for both of us."

He hesitated, as if weighing her words, before giving a small nod. "Alright. If you're sure."

The room filled with the quiet hum of movement as they unpacked. At some unspoken agreement, they naturally claimed their respective sides of the bed and stuck to them.

Sophie folded her clothes, placing them neatly in the dresser, but her thoughts were spinning too fast to focus. Say something, she told herself. The silence—combined with how aware she was of Ethan's presence so close to her—felt almost unbearable.

"You can use the bathroom first," she offered, clearing her throat. "I'll finish up here."

Ethan didn't argue. He grabbed his clothes and disappeared inside, and soon, the sound of the shower filled the space.

Sophie swallowed hard, forcing herself to keep folding. Don't think about it. Don't think about it.

Then her mind betrayed her.

Think PG. Now is not the time to have dirty thoughts.

Her heart pounded, and she quickly shook the thought away. Stop it, Sophie, she scolded, cheeks burning.

When Ethan finally emerged, his damp hair was tousled, like he'd barely run a towel through it. He wore a simple gray t-shirt and dark sweatpants, looking effortlessly casual—and somehow, impossibly handsome.

Sophie's fingers curled around the fabric of her pajama shorts as she grabbed her things.

"Your turn," he said, his voice low as he moved past her.

She nodded quickly and darted into the bathroom, grateful for the time alone to compose herself.

Under the warm water, she tried to shake the tension from her shoulders. When she finally changed into a tank top and sleep shorts, she took a steadying breath before stepping back into the bedroom.

Please let him be asleep already.

Unfortunately, Ethan wasn't.

He lay on his side of the bed, scrolling through his phone. But the second Sophie walked in, his blue eyes lifted to hers.

The air shifted.

Her pulse stuttered, and she quickly looked away, moving to the other side of the bed and climbing in. The mattress dipped beneath her, and suddenly, the space between them felt unbearably small.

Ethan switched off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness.

The only sound was the rustle of sheets as they settled in. Sophie turned onto her side, facing away from him, acutely aware of his warmth just inches away. The bed had seemed huge earlier—now, it felt dangerously small.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to will herself to sleep.

"Good night, Ethan," she murmured.

"Good night, Sophie."

Minutes stretched in silence.

She shifted, hoping to get comfortable, but in the process, her hand accidentally brushed against Ethan's arm. She froze, mortified.

Before she could pull back, he shifted slightly too—his arm grazing hers in return.

A slow, charged awareness crept over her skin.

She didn't know why it felt so significant.

Didn't know why all she could think about was closing the space between them.

No, Sophie. You can't do that.

She squeezed her eyes shut. She needed to relax. She needed to not think about how if she turned over right now, she'd be face-to-face with him, his breath close enough to feel.

And if he had self-control, she wasn't sure she did.

Slowly, as the minutes passed, she forced herself to focus on the steady rhythm of Ethan's breathing. It was slow now, deep. Asleep.

That should have made it easier.

But it didn't.

She could feel his hand beside hers—close, but not quite touching. And for some reason, that felt more unbearable than anything else.

A quiet, reckless urge crept in.

Before she could talk herself out of it, she reached out, her fingers lightly brushing over his before curling around them.

His hand was warm. Steady. Solid.

She took another breath, feeling the tension in her body ease.

And as she finally let sleep pull her under, she realized something strange.

Somehow, she felt comforted by the knowledge that Ethan was right beside her.

*******

When Ethan woke, the first thing he noticed was how well-rested he felt—a rare occurrence these days.

The second thing he noticed was that Sophie was in his arms.

His heart skipped a beat.

For a moment, he just lay there, blinking down at her, his brain struggling to catch up. Sophie was curled against him, her head resting lightly on his chest, her breath soft and even. Her hair fanned out across the pillow, and her face—so peaceful in sleep—made something deep in his chest tighten.

He had no idea how this had happened.

But more importantly... he had no idea why he didn't want to move.

Last night had been torture—lying so close to her, feeling her warmth beside him, knowing he had no business wanting to close the space between them. He had barely gotten any sleep at first, too focused on keeping still, on pretending this wasn't affecting him.

But at some point, he must have stopped pretending.

Because judging by the way Sophie was comfortably tucked against him now, he had pulled her closer in his sleep.

The realization sent a sharp jolt through him.

God, what was wrong with him?

Carefully, he debated how to move without waking her—without making this any more complicated than it already was. But before he could so much as shift, Sophie stirred.

Her lashes fluttered against her cheeks, and for a moment, she looked soft, dazed—completely unguarded.

Just as he was carefully debating how to move without waking her, Sophie's eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, she looked as dazed as he felt.

Then she realized where she was—pressed against Ethan's chest, his arm loosely draped around her. Her eyes widened in horror, and she shot upright so quickly it startled him.

Ethan, caught off guard, let out an uncharacteristic laugh—a low, warm sound that filled the quiet room.

Sophie, now sitting up with the blankets clutched around her, blinked at him, confused and still visibly mortified. Her cheeks were burning.

"Why are you laughing?" she demanded, her voice defensive but soft.

Ethan grinned, shaking his head as he sat up. "You—you startled me. For a second there, I thought you were about to scream." His shoulders shook with amusement as he tried (and failed) to bite back more laughter.

Sophie scowled, but it wasn't very convincing as her lips twitched upward. "I'm glad I can be a source of entertainment for you," she mumbled, trying to will her embarrassment away.

But seeing Ethan laugh—truly laugh—did something to her heart, and before she knew it, she was laughing too.

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