Page 59 of Deceiver

I close my eyes for a moment, trying as hard as I can to recall fragments of the dream, but nothing else is coming to me.

“I don’t think so.”

Wilder offers a tight smile. “Sounds like a very vivid dream. It’s not surprising, given everything you’ve been through in the last few days. But let me ask you, do you always have vivid dreams?”

“No, not really. I usually don’t remember my dreams.”

“Hmm, okay.”

“Do you think it means something?”

“I’m not sure. I’m simply taking in information.” He scratches his chin. “Get some rest.”

“I don’t think I can.” My stomach rumbles loud enough to hear it. “Oof. I guess I’m hungry.”

Wilder nods, smiling slightly. “Why don’t you freshen up and come back downstairs?”

“Was everything okay while I was napping?”

“Yes. It’s been the quiet house I’m used to. I think whatever Calliope did, it definitely helped.”

“Okay, good. I’ll be right down.”

“See you soon.”

Wilder leaves the room, and I take another few minutes to sip my tea and try to recall my dream, but it seems to end when I was eating the cookies.

It probably doesn’t mean anything anyway. I bet it happened because I’ve got my family on my mind with all this weird stuff going on. That’s all. Still, it was nice to see my mom, even if it was only for a few fleeting seconds.

I try to remember if I interacted with my dad or if he was just there, but it’s almost like I keep running into a wall that blocks my memories of the rest of the dream.

Oh well. I need to shake it off. Probably wasn’t that important anyway.

Chapter 16

Wilder

Keagan appears at the bottom of the stairs with a dazed expression still on his face. I’m deeply concerned that something happened to him in this supposed dream, but he seems pretty normal so far, except for the very obvious erection he still has.

Which isn’t helpful for me right now. I’m afraid it’s been a little too long since I last indulged, and that’s a distraction I don’t need. It doesn’t hurt that Keagan is extremely attractive as well.

“What are you in the mood to eat?” I ask, trying to distract myself.

He shrugs. “I could eat anything. I’m really not picky.”

“There’s a sub shop down the street that has really good sandwiches.”

“Sure, that sounds good. Honestly, you can order anything and I’ll eat it.”

“You don’t want to look at the menu?”

He shakes his head. “Nah, I’m good. I don’t have the energy for that right now.”

“Okay, no problem. I’ll take care of ordering.”

“Thanks.”

He shuffles over to the couch and plops down. His hand moves between his legs, rubbing, but then he abruptly pulls it away.