The four minutes passed in the warm quiet of the bedroom, Kelly's head on his chest and Elena's on his shoulder, both of them breathing slowly, the lamp doing its thing on the nightstand.
Then Kelly lifted her head.
She looked at Elena.
Elena opened one eye.
Something passed between them.
Not warmth exactly but the specific understanding of two people who had arrived at a shared objective from different directions and had decided temporarily that the objective was more important than the direction.
Kelly moved first.
She rolled off him and off the bed and stood up, her blonde hair completely undone, her skin flushed from her neck all the way down, and she looked at him still lying there.
"Floor," she said.
He looked at her.
"Come on," she said.
He got up.
