Amy Cousins - When the Lights Go Down

That it did not remotely resemble the explosion of clothes, photographs and random souvenirs from past shows that distinguished her own bedroom shouldn’t bother her.

Should it?

Her midsection growled audibly. Introspection would have to wait. The last meal she’d consumed had been a Polish and some peanuts at the game the previous afternoon, not counting the various candy bars she and Grace had snagged from vending machines in the corridors of the hospital.

She ran her tongue over her teeth.

A toothbrush wouldn’t hurt, either.

When she emerged from the bathroom, she placed her feet carefully so as to make no noise in the silent apartment. She felt like a cat burglar and that was annoying, since she wasn’t sneaking anywhere.

She heard the clicking before she saw him and wasn’t surprised to find Nick hunched over the keyboard of a laptop computer on the coffee table, forearms resting on his knees as he leaned forward and typed with impressive speed.

His cheeks curved into a smile as she walked over to the large leather couch, so she knew he heard her, but he continued typing without looking up. He was dressed in yet another crisply tailored suit, ready for the day to begin. She ran her palms over her wrinkled jeans and felt half-dressed, and poorly at that, in comparison. He’d clearly been awake for some time already and she couldn’t say why this bothered her.

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