I woke up the next morning to the first watery rays of sunshine leaking through the window opposite the bed. My eyes flickered open, and the first thing I noticed was the weight of Mona lying against my chest.

 

Oh, shit.

 

I looked down, and saw that she was still asleep on top of me; her hair was a messy, dark halo around her head, smudges of last night’s make-up still on her face. I leaned down to put my face into her hair, enjoying the smell of her, enjoying the last few seconds before she came to and I had to face up to what we had done.

 

I glanced over at the clock, and saw that Ella would be up soon. It was a Saturday, but she usually rolled out of bed before eight, ready to spend the day bouncing off the walls. I gently pulled Ella off of me, and sat up straight. She shifted back and forth on the pillow a couple of times, and then turned her head to face me. I looked down at her as her eyes fluttered open, and she stretched as she pulled herself upright beside me.

 

“What time does Ella usually get up on a Saturday?” she asked, and it was clear that both of us were avoiding the big question—what the hell did we do now?

 

“Now, more or less.” I shrugged. “You want to get some coffee before she gets up?”

 

“Yeah, sounds like a plan.” She swung her legs out of bed and yawned. Despite the fact my mind was bouncing back and forth over whether what we had done was right or not, I couldn’t help letting my eyes drift down her naked body. The curve of her spine, the way it led down into her hips, her ass…the image of her on top of me flashed through my brain, and I felt myself growing hard beneath the covers. No, not now. I needed to keep my head straight.

 

She reached for her clothes and dressed herself, and I did the same. We kept our backs to each other, as though pretending that we could backtrack and make things platonic. But we couldn’t retract what had happened between us. Did I want to?

 

We made our way downstairs, and I tried to convince myself that this was just like any other morning. I made the coffee, and she leaned up against the counter, but instead of the easy banter we usually shared, an awkward silence hung between us. Until, of course, we both tried to speak at the same time.

 

“We should—”

 

“When I—” she blurted, and managed a small smile at our stupidity. “No, you go first.”

 

“Sorry.” I wrinkled my nose up. “I just think we need to talk about what happened last night.”

 

“At least give me my coffee first.” She made grabby hands towards the cup I was pouring, and I handed it over to her. She took a long, grateful sip, and I could tell that this was going to be a difficult conversation.

 

“So…” I began after a second or two, not sure how long I should give it before I just jumped in. “What happened last night…”

 

“I know.” She raised her eyebrows at me. I couldn’t read her expression; was she excited and happy, or agreeing with me on the weirdness of the scenario?

 

“I, uh, I don’t think it came from a good place,” I went on.

 

“Yeah, I think it was more the adrenaline than anything else,” she agreed with a nod. “With Devil catching that guy and everything.”

 

Okay. Thank fuck. We were on the same page.

 

“I’m not sure…” I paused before the words came out. Every fiber of my body was yelling at me not to put a stop to what had happened the night before, but I knew I couldn’t in good conscious carry it on. Not when I knew it would be distracting from the task at hand. Not when I knew it would be taking away from my focus on Ella.

 

“We probably shouldn’t do it again.” She bowed her head slightly and moved her gaze from mine, as though she didn’t want to acknowledge what we’d just agreed on. I knew how she felt. That primal part of my brain wanted to grab her right there and then and bend her over the counter, to remind myself how she felt around me.

 

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” I took a sip of my coffee. I was beginning to relax—even if I wasn’t sure that this was what I wanted, at least we were on the same page about it. You know, despite the fact that the tension between us was even more intense than it had been before. Knowing what we were missing, knowing how good we were together…that was a hard one to shake.

 

“We need to stay focused on Ella and whatever’s going on around here.” I could have sworn I heard a hint of sadness in her voice, as though she didn’t want to have to accept that any more than I did. Our eyes met, and she quickly looked away, as though she couldn’t bear to acknowledge that this couldn’t happen anymore.

 

“Yeah, but where do we go from here?” I asked. “I feel like we’re at a dead end.”

 

“We need to get someone who’s better at all this stuff than we are.”

 

“What, like Scott?”

 

She shook her head. “He’s good but he’s not what we need. I was thinking someone higher-up. Someone who can go deeper into this.”

 

“Like who?” I leaned forward, but she glanced up at me apologetically.

 

“I haven’t got anyone in mind, if that’s what you’re asking.”

 

“Oh,” I sighed, and leaned back. The silence between us was deafening; we never normally had this much trouble making conversation. I didn’t know what to say, unsure of what she wanted to hear—either about the case or about us.

 

Before I could say or do anything more, Ella came down the stairs, and Mona hurried over to greet her. “Hey, Ella!” she exclaimed brightly, and Ella smiled tiredly up at her. “How did you sleep?”

 

“Funny.” Ella shrugged. I prayed that she didn’t remember too much of our little excursion yesterday—I still couldn’t believe I’d let them both come along. “Can I watch my cartoons now?”

 

Mona shot a look in my direction, and I waved with a nod. They sat down in front of the TV, and I started making breakfast—something big and hearty, something that would fill up the void in my stomach now that we had called things off.

 

Maybe it would have been better if nothing had happened at all. In fact, I knew that for certain—if I didn’t have all these images engraved on my brain of her and her body and her pussy and everything else, this wouldn’t be half as painful as it was turning out to be. But the knowledge—the knowledge that I was missing out on something, that no matter how much I wanted her, it wasn’t a good idea, was just making it worse. What had I been thinking last night? Hook-ups like that usually only happened after a night of drinking, but I was stone-cold sober when I kissed her in that hallway and told her she was coming back to my bed.

 

I glanced over at the two of them, and wondered if there was something there. If something could work between Mona and me. I mean, Ella, already adored her, so that wasn’t too much of a problem—and I found myself getting more attached to her every day. She was smart, beautiful, and didn’t stand for a lot of my shit. I needed someone like her in my life. How long had it been since I could say that and not follow it up with some kind of qualifier? It had been years since I’d felt even close to the way I did about Mona about anyone else.

 

If only she hadn’t come along now. In the middle of all this shit. It had arrived on the same day as her, landing on my lap as the biggest distraction I could have asked for. She knew it and I knew it—there was no relationship between us until we figured this shit out. I needed to know my daughter was safe before I could so much as think about dating someone again. Even just thinking about it made me want to slide between them on the floor and wrap my arms around my little girl, to convince myself that this was all going to be okay. Because right now, it seemed as though we were coming up against a series of dead ends; I was sure that Lucy’s peeper would have something to do with the full story, but he didn’t know a thing. And I still hadn’t figured out what was in that attic, or what kind of threat it posed to my daughter.

 

I finished up breakfast, and took the plates over to Mona and Ella; for a second, I pretended this was permanent, that we were a family and this was just how we lived our lives now. But I had to come crashing back to reality as Mona smiled at me and then turned away again. We had an agreement to stop this happening again—and no matter how much I wanted to pretend differently, there was no escaping the truth of what we both knew was best.