I hurried to the bed and climbed up beside him. I called his name quietly at first, then louder, until I had to yell. But he remained stuck inside his head. Out of options, I put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a tentative shake, and another, and another.
He sat up with a start. His eyes darted aimlessly, scanning the room but not truly tracking. His gaze came to rest on me; wild and panicked. “Tenley?”
“It’s okay. I’m right here. It was just a dream.” I pushed his hair off his forehead.
Hayden caught my hands in his and brought them to his mouth, lips moving over my knuckles. He made a deep sound in the back of his throat, a hybrid of despair and relief. Then he started checking me over, patting me down. His hand smoothed over my chest and he looked at his palms, then he repeated the action, rambling about blood.
He found the hem of my shirt and his hand went underneath. His palm slid over my stomach and between my breasts, searching for something. Unsatisfied with what he found, he tugged my shirt over my head. His palm flattened against the center of my chest.
“It’s not there.” He looked over my shoulder, smoothing his hand down my back.
“What’s not there?”
“The bullet. There’s no bullet.”
“I’m fine, Hayden.” I put my hand over his and moved it higher. “See? I’m fine, there’s nothing there. It was a dream.”
“Nothing. There’s nothing. There’s no blood.” His breath left him in harsh pants.
Hayden enveloped me in a grip that made it hard to breathe. I rubbed slow circles on his back to comfort him, resting my chin on his shoulder. Lowering my face, I kissed his overheated skin. It was damp and salty with sweat.
“Please don’t leave me. Not again. Please. It hurts too much to be without you. I don’t know how. I don’t—” He murmured pleas until he was too frantic to speak. His vulnerability was a shock.
“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere,” I said, seeking to reassure him.
Cassie had been right; he was more fragile than I would ever have thought.
When his breathing finally slowed and his grip loosened, I urged him back under the covers. He went willingly. I drew them up over both of us and he curled himself around me. He pushed his forehead against my neck and got as close as he could, almost blanketing my body with his. His hand kept up a slow stroking. He returned to the center of my chest each time, making sure I was whole.
“It’s always the same dream. I can’t get to you in time and then you’re gone, and there’s nothing I can do to stop the emptiness.”
Like mine, his nightmare seemed like facets of his past twined with the present. His parents had been murdered. If his subconscious had replaced them with me, my abandoning him was the catalyst for these dreams.
“I’m right here with you, Hayden. Everything’s okay now.” I held him close.
Eventually his hand came to rest on my sternum, his nose pressed right into my throat. His breathing evened out and the tension left his body, but he kept his arm locked around me, as if I’d disappear if he let go.
8
HAYDEN
My face was warm, damp. A rhythmic thump-whooshing lulled me into tranquillity. My cheek was resting on a chest, which explained the sweaty face. The thump-whoosh was the heart beating in the body I was wrapped around.
I opened my eyes. Tenley was in my bed. For the briefest moment I wondered if the last three weeks had been an incredibly shitty dream. But the scratches on her cheek told me the hell I’d lived was real.
She’d come back. Finally. Unfortunately, we didn’t have one of those reunions filled with sunshine and rainbows. Instead it was former strippers and catfights.
I still didn’t understand how she’d ended up in my bed, acting as my pillow. Going by the feel of things, she was completely naked. Not a good thing for her to be when I was sporting a hard-core case of morning wood and we needed to have a serious talk. The impulse to whack off had deserted me the night Tenley left Chicago, but seeing her in my shirt and boxers last night had resuscitated my comatose dick. I hadn’t been in any frame of mind to manage myself, so I’d bolted. Plus her hip was obviously sore. Sex would have made it worse.
Tenley made a little chuffing sound, which meant she was waking. Then she stretched, her limbs vibrating. I’d missed this, more than I wanted to admit. My emotions made me weak, and my anger flared. Being pissed didn’t deflate my hard-on, though. It had the opposite effect. I rolled onto my back to get a little space, and maybe some perspective, because I had no idea how to proceed. My brain and my body wanted two very different things.
Tenley didn’t make it any easier when she threw her leg over mine, her naked body coming up against me. She hadn’t been joking about losing the shorts. I could feel every part of her, including that sweet, hot place pressed firmly against my thigh. She snuggled in closer, unaware, and her hand moved down my chest. I caught it before it reached my navel.
She lifted her head, blinking sleepily. “Hi.” Her voice was all sultry rasp.
My dick reacted by jumping, stupid appendage that it was, excited for something it had no business wanting. She shifted, her bare breasts brushing my arm, and I tensed at the overload of sensation. I fought the desire to roll over, wedge myself between her thighs, and take what I wanted; to just get inside her so I could feel that connection again.
“How’d you end up in here?” I asked.
She took in her surroundings, confused. Our compromising position must have registered, because she was suddenly alert. I let go of her hand and she sat up. The covers dropped. The first thing I noticed was the too-prominent jut of her collarbones. The slight bounce of her perfectly luscious breasts distracted me, though. The temperature change became evident as her skin pebbled, her nipples tightening. Those little, jeweled barbells winked, spotlit and waiting for my mouth or hands. I looked away.
Tenley quickly gathered the covers and pulled them up to her neck. “You had a nightmare. You don’t remember?”
I shook my head.
“I’m not sure you were very lucid. You, ah, took off my shirt. You were checking for something. A wound, I think?” The sheets rustled, with a whisper of fabric moving against skin.
I glanced at her. She had covered her nakedness with the black shirt from last night. “Did we—”
“No. It wasn’t anything like that. You were upset from the nightmare. I stayed until you calmed down and then we both fell asleep. Nothing else happened.”
I couldn’t imagine not remembering sex with Tenley. “Good, that’s good—”
Like the snap of an elastic band, the nightmare returned in a slide show of horrific images. It was the one that troubled me most these days, where she bled out from a bullet wound to the chest. Except last night the satin sheath had been black instead of white, so I couldn’t see the blood leaking out of her.
The memory of the dream must have registered in my expression because her head dropped. Her hair swept forward, shielding her face. She twisted her fingers in her lap, and tears fell onto the gray comforter. They sat on the surface for a few prolonged seconds before they soaked in, turning the fabric almost black. “I’m so sorry I hurt you,” she whispered.
“I believe you.”
Unable to stop myself, I lifted her chin so I could see her face. Her fears matched mine. I wanted to go back to the way things were before she left, but so much had happened. We had to establish a new balance, and that would take time.
I rolled onto my side to face her. “Want to tell me what happened last night with Sienna?”
“I left Arden Hills in a rush. I called Sarah when I was on the road to let her know I was on my way. I just wanted to be home. Anyway, she didn’t pick up, so I left a voice mail. I stopped at the apartment, but her car wasn’t there—”