The morning came too early. They kissed and spoke in hushed voices until the wee hours of the dawn, passing out for a quick catnap before the wake-up call sounded throughout the hotel room. They did not speak; there were no words. Liam simply pulled her body flush to his and began blessing every inch of it he was permitted to touch with his lips. He sucked on her navel, bringing her to life again for the last time before he was to board his plane.
“Next time we need to do this in a field. I can picture us getting good and dirty in the grass,” Liam breathed.
Without warning, Molly let out a loud sob.
Liam’s head popped up from her stomach. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
Molly hid her face in her pillow, finally letting the tears she had been holding back pour out from her.
“Molly? Honey, what is it?” His heavy arm rested on her stomach, trying to communicate comfort in his overexcited state.
“How can you ask me that?” she wailed. “You’re leaving! You talk about the great times we can have together, but it’s not real. You have to leave in like, half an hour?” She glanced at the clock. “That can’t be right. I have to drop you off at the airport in half an hour, Liam! And you’re talking about the next time we’re together. This is our last day for who knows how long! Months? A year?”
Liam did his best to come out of his post-make-out haze with a smidgen of coherence. “You’re right. That was a stupid thing to say. Come here.” He crawled up near the pillow and drew her to his chest. He slowly rubbed her back until her tears tapered off. “Realistically, I can get away for a long weekend about every three months.”
Molly scoffed. “You’re honestly suggesting a long-distance relationship? A relationship based on a weekend every three months?”
“Are you suggesting we break it off?” When Molly was quiet, he continued to run his hands down her back. “I didn’t think so.” He stared up at the ceiling, wishing he could give her the words of comfort she needed. “I’ll make it back for the auction. That’s only two weeks away.”
“Long-distance relationships don’t have a high statistical success rate.”
“You and that brain.” He kissed her hair and hugged her as tight as her sore ribs would allow, knowing he would not be able to sleep that night without her curves pressed against him. “Let’s try it for a month. Can you give me that before you hop into bed with Doctor Hamilton?”
Molly laughed, despite herself. “Okay. We can try it. One month. What’s the worst that can happen?”