Page 150 of Dream On

She squeezes my hand. “Will you…hold me?”

I blink back at her, my brows creasing. We stare at each other.

I nod.

A tear slips from the corner of her eye before she tugs me forward, toward the staircase. She takes me into her bedroom, and I follow, dazed, conflicted, and picked apart. I watch as she throws back the covers and burrows underneath, inching to the side and leaving room for me.

I slide in beside her. Wrap an arm around her midsection and pull her to me, until we’re pressed together, my heartbeats stumbling against the smooth arc of her back.

My eyes close, my grip on her tightening.

Stevie’s breath steadies beside me, shallow and soft. Shifting closer, she intertwines our fingers just as my eyes start to feel heavy, a deep sleep edging its way through me.

I’m scared to let her go.

I’m scared to be alone again because now that she’s back, I remember.

I remember what it’s like to really feel.

Chapter 36

Stevie

It’s still dark outside the window. The royal-blue drapes are cracked wide open, a perfect match to the predawn sky. Birdsong and early-morning traffic have my eyelids twitching with wakefulness as I slowly kick the comforter off my body with a drowsy yawn. Stretching, I roll over and face the opposite side of the bed.

Empty.

And that empty space is a bucket of ice water on my memories, shocking them back to life.

I whip up on my elbows, my heart tossed onto a Tilt-A-Whirl. His scent is all around me: a trace of yesterday’s shampoo trapped in my pillowcase, earthy cologne branded on the sheets, and, most notably, remnants of last night’s piano escapades still lingering on my skin.

Oh my God.

My pulse thrums, thighs squeeze. There’s an ache between my legs. A reminder. It’s as delicious as it is terrifying as I pick sections of hair off my face and swing my legs over the side of the bed. I take a moment to race into the bathroom to clean myself up, change into comfy clothes, and brush my teeth before heading down the staircase.

Lex is seated at the island with a mug of coffee.

I stop short of the kitchen, a wave of mismatched emotions battling for dominance. The huge wall clock tells me it’s a little after five a.m., and Lex’srigid posture and tense shoulders tell me it’s going to be a long, confusing day.

Wringing my hands together in front of me, I struggle to find my voice. “Good morning.”

He doesn’t look at me right away, staring straight ahead as he takes a sip of coffee. “Hey. Made you a cup.”

My eyes pan over to the glossy black mug near the espresso maker. “Thank you.” Forcing my legs into action, I wind around the island and reach for it, sparing him a quick glance now that I can see his face. I lean back against the counter and palm the room-temperature mug. He’s been awake for a while. “How did you sleep?”

Dumb.

The ordinary question slips out, sounding absurd under the current circumstances.

We had sex last night.

Volatile, passionate, molecule-altering sex. On his grand piano.

At this time yesterday, Lex was a virgin.

And now he’s not.

Lex finally lifts his eyes to mine as we gaze at each other across the big center island, a continent between us. “Slept fine.”