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“I’m sorry. It’s just …”

“Just what?”

“Do you remember anything from last night?”

He pulls me to a stop and steps into my body, so I have no choice but to back up against the wall beside me. He ducks down and stares into my eyes.

“I remember you wrapping your lips around my cock. I remember you coming with my tongue inside you, then my fingers and finally my cock.”

My cheeks burn up as oblivious pedestrians continue to walk past us as if he’s not whispering these things to me in the middle of a public place.

“Corey.” It’s meant to be a warning, but it comes out more like a moan.

“You remember how good it felt?” He closes the space between us and presses the length of his body to mine.

A whimper falls from my lips. How could I forget? He reminded me less than an hour ago.

“T-that’s not quite what I meant.”

“Oh?”

His eyes bore into mine, and I stand no chance of getting myself out of this now.

“Y-you …” His brows lift in curiously as I fumble around my words. “You had a nightmare. That’s why I was up this morning. You woke me and I couldn’t?—”

“Motherfucker.” His angry grunt and giant step back cut off my words.

“Hey, it’s okay. I just didn’t know if you could remember and …”

“Can we not?” he pleads, his eyes begging me to stop before he breaks the connection between us and looks away.

“Yeah, sure. I just wanted you to know that I … I understand, and it’s okay.”

“It’s okay?” he asks incredulously. “It’s not … it can’t … Fuck.” He lifts his hands to his hair and tugs. I fear I might have just ruined everything between us, and all because I couldn’t keep my big mouth shut about his damn nightmare.

I stay where I am and give him a moment to compose himself. Even if he can’t remember the nightmare, I’m assuming that he’s aware of what it would have been about, and that me bringing it up is just as painful.

Tipping his head back, he stares up at the sky for a few seconds. His chest heaves as his breaths race out past his open lips.

I feel for him. I know how painful memories and regrets are, if that’s what he’s going through, but equally, I know that there’s nothing I can do right now other than wait him out.

“Let’s go,” he says eventually before he begins marching down the street.

This time, he doesn’t reach for my hand.

He comes to a stop at a diner and pulls the door open for me.

“Morning, Corey. Whoa … who’s this?” the lady behind the counter says, excitedly looking from Corey to me.

“Hi, I’m Harlow.”

“I’m Laura, and I’m shocked.”

“Leave it,” Corey hisses. “We’ll be over in the corner,” he says to the woman who clearly knows him fairly well.

We take a seat, but the tension between us is palpable and I kick myself for ruining how easy things had been between us this morning.

“You know her well?” I ask in the hope of breaking the discomfort surrounding us.

“Kind of. She’s one of my artists’ sisters. I come in here most mornings for food. Here.” He slides the menu over to me and effectively ends my attempt at a conversation.

“What can I get you both?”

“The usual, please, and …”

“Um … waffles and bacon, please,” I say when my eyes land on the first thing on the menu.

“Thank you. I’ll be back with your coffees in a moment.”

The silence returns the second Laura steps away.

“Corey?” He turns his haunted blue eyes on me, and my breath catches in my throat. “I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.” I’ve got so many questions, from his nightmare to his scars, to how it’s affecting him now, but I can’t ask. I daren’t.

“It’s okay. I’m going to need to take you home after this. I’ve got to get to work soon.”

“I can call myself an Uber. You don’t need to …

” I trail off, hoping that he’s going to refuse my offer and demand he takes me home, but all he does is nod.

Something inside me dies. I know he warned me that there was nothing serious here, but it seems my heart ignored it and got carried away with itself anyway.

Tears burn the backs of my eyes, but I blink them away—not that I think he’d notice. He’s too lost in his own head right now to pay me any attention.

He stares out the window as Laura fills our mugs, and the silence stretches out to us eating our food. Well, I say eating; I mostly just push mine around my plate. Any appetite I might have had vanished the moment I mentioned his nightmare.

The second we’ve finished, he pays the bill before getting up and stalking outside. I have no idea if it’s me he’s trying to escape from or his memories, but it stings nonetheless.

I call an Uber and make the most of the facilities before joining him outside when I know the car is about to arrive.

“Thank you for last night. And this morning.” Reaching up on my tiptoes, I place a kiss to his cheek, but he doesn’t register the move. It’s like the soft and gentle man that I know has left his body, leaving behind a cold shell of a person.

With a sigh, I step toward my awaiting car and pull the door open. I’m about to climb inside when his voice stops me.

“Harlow?” I turn back to him. The haunted look still covers his face, but his eyes are a little brighter than a few moments ago.

“Yeah?”

“I’m so sorry.”

Before I know what’s happening, I’m pressed up against his body, his fingers are in my hair, and his lips are on mine.

The desperation in his kiss is palpable. I recognize it because I’ve felt it myself on more than one occasion as I’ve craved the relief from my memories.

His tongue sweeps into my mouth as his arm wraps around my back and holds me tightly.

I start to think he’s never going to release me, but then the Uber driver beeps impatiently forcing him to pull back from my lips and rest his forehead on mine. He keeps his eyes closed for a beat before dragging his heavy lids open.

“I’m sorry, I just?—”

“I get it, Corey. I really, really do. Go and sort your head out. If you want to talk or … not, call me.” He nods before releasing me.

‘Thank you,’ he mouths before watching me get into the car.

I breathe out a tense sigh as the car pulls away.

That wasn’t how I was expecting our time together to end.

I kick myself for not being able to keep my lips shut about that damn nightmare, but at the same time, I’m glad I mentioned it.

If it gets him talking, whether it’s to me or someone else, then it might help.

Jesus, I sound just like all the people who’ve given me ‘helpful’ advice over the years.