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She shook her head. “You’ve got no family.”

“I never have.”

“You could, you just have to open your eyes and wake up. Always keep your eyes open.”

My breathing came in short bursts as everyone watched me. “I’ll never have a family.”

“I hate the noise. And you hate the loneliness. Admit it, Dahlia. Wake up and admit it.”

I shook my head frantically. “I’m happy.”

Mrs. Giovanni looked impatient. “You aren’t. Not ever. But you could be. Wake up, Dahlia.”

“No, I—”

“Wake up.”

“Really, I’m happy—”

“You could be,” a soft and distant voice said from my other side.

I turned, my eyes going wide as my heart hammered in my chest.

Dark brown hair fell in the way of pale green eyes.

“Mom?” I asked even though she was only my age.

“Stop hiding and have it all,” she whispered, gesturing to the rapidly filling table. The people banged on the heavy wooden top. “All you have to do is wake up, Dahlia.”

I started and bolted upright, my body covered in a thin layer of sweat. Looking around frantically, all I saw was my apartment. My alarm clock showed it was barely after two. My heart raced as I flopped back, trying to catch my breath.

I’d been sleeping fitfully since Theo had dropped me off earlier in the night. After that dream, I doubted I’d get any more rest.

When someone knocked, I yelped, nearly falling out of bed.

“Wake up, Dahlia,” I heard through the door, an echo of my dream. Only it wasn’t my mother or Mrs. Giovanni.

Rolling out of bed, I checked the peephole to be sure before throwing open the door. “Theo, what’re you—”

His mouth covered mine as he cupped my face and pulled me close. Fingers digging in, his tongue pushed into my mouth, twirling and teasing. He kicked the door closed behind him before walking me deeper into my apartment.

Not that there was far to go.

After only a few steps we were past the kitchenette counter. A few steps more and the back of my legs hit my bed.

His large hands spanned my hips, lifting me so my feet were completely off the ground. “Wrap your legs around me,” he said against my lips. When I encircled his waist, he put a knee on the mattress and lowered me onto my back. Breaking his kiss, he curved his hand over the top of my head, weaving his fingers into my hair. His other hand went to the bed by my shoulder, supporting him enough so I could breathe.

Or rather I would’ve been able to, had it not been for the look on his face.

Moonlight streamed in through the window behind us, giving me peeks of him in the darkness. His gaze was intense, his eyes searing. Lowering himself closer, his scratchy cheek slid against my smooth one until his mouth was by my ear. “Does this feel like I don’t want you, Dahlia?” he whispered, his voice harshly rough yet beautiful. He shifted, pushing his hardness against me. Grinding, only my thin sleep shorts and his jeans between us, I felt how much he wanted me. Long, thick inches pushed, causing an ache and emptiness to take over my body. Tension grew as he held me in place with the hand on top of my head and pushed again. “Does it?”

Shaking my head, I gasped as his zipper rubbed just right. My fingers went into his soft hair as I put pressure on his head.

His lips dropped back to mine, his hand leaving my head to go up my tee. He reached just under my breast, his thumb stroking between the two. Kissing down my neck, he nipped, licked, and sucked his way to my chest. Finally cupping my breast, his grip tightened, and his warm mouth covered my hard nipple over the fabric. Teeth biting and tongue flicking, the fabric grew wet. His thumb and finger replaced his mouth as he switched to my other nipple, rolling and tugging it gently.

With one last twirl of the tongue, Theo released my breasts. The cold air was a shock, tightening my nipples to near painful levels.

Returning his mouth to mine, he arched his back to increase the torturous pressure between my legs. I began to rock my hips, needing to ease the ache. Groaning, the kiss ended as he went onto his knees. Before I knew what was happening, my shorts were flying through the air with his shirt following after it.