Page 19 of Tell Me I'm Not Dreaming

AIMEE

Present Day

A imee sits across from a jittery Patrick. To the naked eye, he looks calm, but she sees the little things he’s always had that show his discomfort.

The knee bounce ? Check .

The subtle jaw tick ? Check .

And the rapping fingertips on the table ? Check . He really hasn’t changed .

Aimee smiles to herself as she remembers how nervous Patrick was when he asked her to be his girlfriend. She chuckles, letting out a snort.

“You snorted. Whatever you’re thinking about must be really funny,” Patrick teases.

“Remember when you asked me to be your girlfriend?” Aimee asks.

Patrick snickers and lets out a snort of his own. “Yeah, damn, I was nervous.”

“You are now, too, aren’t you?”

“A little. I was pretty nervous when I called you today, too.”

The morning after their night together on the yacht, she gave him her number, and he called her later that day, asking her to have dinner.

Aimee, feeling a little cheeky, suggested Fresh ’N Fishy, a trendy seafood restaurant whose owner apparently has a quirky sense of humor and wanted to see if anyone would come to a high-end seafood place with such a cheesy name.

They did! This place has a waitlist a mile long.

Patrick not only got them a reservation, but he also got them a private room with their own server.

The chef’s tasting menu is currently being prepared.

It includes Pacific oyster, crab cakes, seared scallops and Chilean sea bass.

They’re both drinking a sauvignon blanc, suggested by their personal sommelier.

“Thank you for bringing me here. I’ve always wanted to know what all the fuss was about.” Aimee sips her wine.

“You’re more than welcome. The hype for this place is well-earned. The food here is amazing.”

Aimee smiles sweetly at him. She sees his shoulders relax a little, which, in turn, makes her feel sorry for him. She knows he feels terrible about what happened between them, and she doesn’t want him to feel tortured about something that happened twenty-two years ago.

She reaches out and touches his hand. “Patrick.”

“Yes?” He squeezes her hand and looks her right in the eyes. All of his focus and attention is on her.

“Forty-year-old Aimee understands why you did what you did, but in that moment, seeing you again, I became that heart-broken eighteen-year-old girl.”

“I understand. I became that heart-broken eighteen-year-old boy again.”

“I want you to know that I forgive you, Patrick, and I want to give us a real shot.”

He bows his head and mumbles a thank you to God. He comes around the side of the table and sits close to Aimee, and they kiss. Their press their lips together over and over before he returns to his seat with a little pep in his step.

He takes her hands in his and squeezes them. “I need to tell you something.”

“Is this about your daughter?”

“How did you know I have a daughter?”

“You mentioned her in an Instagram post. She’s twelve, right?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think she’ll like me?” Aimee’s voice is small.

Patrick kisses her hand. “Of course she will. You two have a lot in common. Courtney is a force of nature, too. You should see the way people light up around her. That kid can literally make friends with anyone.” He smiles.

“That’s so sweet to say about your baby,” Aimee gushes.

“She’s my little ray of sunshine.”

The server brings out their food and refills their wine glasses before leaving.

“I read an article about you a few years back.” Aimee cuts into a scallop.

“Which article did you read?” He takes a bite of sea bass.

“The one about the heart procedure you performed on conjoined twins in Ghana.” She takes a bite.

“Really?”

“Yep, truth be told, Patrick, it wasn’t just the IG post or the article. I’ve kept up with you a lot over the years,” she simpers.

His eyes light up. “I’ve kept up with you too. I didn’t follow you on social media because”—his eyes dim—“I wanted to respect your wishes about never speaking to me again.”

“I didn’t follow you either. At first, it was because I was still angry, but after a while, I wasn’t sure if you would even want to hear from me after how I spoke to you.” She looks down and fiddles with her utensils.

Patrick lifts her head up by the chin. “I would have.”

They stare at each other for bit. Aimee enjoys this moment.

She takes in Patrick’s face. His boyish good looks have matured nicely.

She wasn’t kidding. He really is even more handsome.

Aimee’s pussy quivers as her eyes move to his lips.

As much as she wants to fuck Patrick again, this is their second chance, and she doesn’t want to rush things. She calms herself and stays on topic.

“Why did you retire from being a surgeon?” she asks.

“You know about that too, huh?”

“Like I said, I’ve been keeping up with you.”

He gives her a shy grin.

“Oh, my God! You still do that, too.” Aimee giggles.

“Do what?” Patrick asks.

“That sweet smile you give when you’re flattered.”

Patrick chuckles and looks down.

“You also do it when you’re embarrassed,” she teases.

Aimee’s heart flutters as his face flushes.

“I’m sorry, please continue,” Aimee insists.

“To answer your question, I loved saving lives, but I found that the best way to truly help people was to create an opportunity for the next generation of Black heart surgeons. So, I’ve dedicated myself to education.”

St. Augustine, the hospital where Patrick has saved countless lives, is a teaching hospital, and Patrick has pivoted from surgeon to the medical director of the cardiology department.

He helped develop a program that will bring more Black medical students to the hospital.

He took a drastic pay cut, but with the money he inherited from his father and his grandparents’ passings, and making some smart investments courtesy of Ranson’s influence, he’s more than comfortable.

“That’s admirable.” Aimee takes his hand and plays with his fingers.

“It’s not as impressive as becoming a best-selling indie author, and an educator at one of the most prestigious performing arts schools in LA.” He takes her hand and kisses her knuckles.

“You know damn well what you do is more impressive.” Aimee playfully rolls her eyes.

“Not necessarily. A world without art isn’t much of a world to live in. I give people a little bit more time on this blue spinning ball we live on. You create something that makes living on it worth it.” He gives her hand a lingering kiss while looking her in the eyes.

“Patrick, that’s … thank you.”

“Of course. You know, I’ve read all your books.”

“I was wondering if you had.”

“Yep, and I appreciate being the inspiration for the prince.”

“I’m sure you weren’t too pleased that I had a dragon eat your grandmother,” Aimee says sheepishly.

“Relax, it’s fine.”

They stare at each other again until Aimee raises her glass. “To a new start.”

“To forever,” Patrick counters.

They clink glasses and toast.

After they finish their dinner, they stand in front of the restaurant, waiting for the valet to bring Patrick’s car to the front.

“I had a lovely evening,” Aimee says.

“Me, too,” Patrick replies.

“I was wondering if you wanted to continue our evening,” Aimee suggests.

Patrick pulls her to him and kisses her, massaging his tongue against hers. When he stops, her eyes are wide, and she has a goofy smile on her face.

“Wow.”

“I’m going to take you back to my place and fuck you senseless,” Patrick says casually.

“I was thinking ice cream, but okay,” Aimee says.

“I have ice cream at home. You still like fudge ripple, right?”

“Yes.”

“Good, I got some this morning for you. It’s from a dairy based in Switzerland that makes its own milk and chocolate. It’s said to be some of the best ice cream in the world.”

“Patrick, how rich are you?”

“I don’t like to think of myself as rich, but I do plan to use money in order to make up for the past twenty-two years in a multitude of ways.”

“Okay!” Aimee beams.

Patrick snorts. “Glad you approve because I got a whole bunch of stuff for you at my place. You’re staying over.”

“Sounds good.” Aimee smiles.

“I do have to tell you; Courtney and her mother stay in my guest house. I’m buying Sheila a house for her and Court, but for now, they’re on the property. I swear, it’s for Courtney’s benefit, and it’s just temporary.”

“That makes sense. Better to have Courtney near you.”

“Exactly, but we’ll have everything to ourselves. Courtney is staying over at a friend’s house, and Sheila is working late.”

“Sounds good.”

Thirty minutes later, they’re pulling into Patrick’s gated estate. He gets out and opens Aimee’s door. She takes his hand, and she leads her to his beautiful garden in the backyard. His foyer has white oak floors, high ceilings and a fireplace.

Holy shit ! This is just the foyer .

The garden is immaculate. Flowers in full bloom everywhere. He takes her to a bushel of purple flowers.

“Do you remember what these are called?” Patrick grins.

“Not you giving me a pop quiz on plants.” Aimee laughs.

He chuckles. “Just want to see how much you remember.”

He loved sharing his love of gardening and flowers with her when they were kids.

“That’s the princess flower, also known as tibouchina urvilleana. I mentioned it in book?—”

“Book two. The prince has a dream of the maiden, and during the dream, he puts one in her hair.” Patrick plucks a flower from the bush and places in Aimee’s curls before brushing a strand of hair from her face.

“I’m going to suck your dick now.”

“Okay.” He nods in agreement.

Patrick undoes the belt of his slacks. He came to pick her up in his Rolls Royce wearing a bad-ass blue Armani suit, the pants of which are now around his ankles while she squats, sucking his soul out of his dick.

Patrick fucks her mouth without apology. He may be the only man who can truly hang when it comes to her sex drive. She gags on him as he fists her curls.

“Yes, Aimee. That’s it. Choke on that shit, baby.”

“Mmm-hmmm.”

If there’s one thing Aimee loves, it’s having a big dick in her mouth, and Patrick’s fits the bill.

“Argh! I’m bout to bust in your pretty mouth.”

Aimee massages his balls and sucks in her cheeks as she bobs her head up and down on his shaft.

“What the hell is going on?”

Aimee slips Patrick’s dick out of her mouth and looks behind her. She sees a beautiful and angry Black woman with a straight dark brown bob and smooth brown skin. Her red wine-colored lips are pursed, and her perfectly arched brows are furrowed.

Aimee gets up, and Patrick pulls up his pants and adjusts himself.

“Sheila, what are you doing here? Your place is on the other side of the main house.”

“I know that. I was on my way there when I saw the security footage of you and your little friend,” she spits.

“You’re not supposed to enter the main house unless it’s an emergency. That’s the only reason I gave you a key. I’ve told you already that you can’t go through my house whenever you please.”

“It’s easier to go through the main house to get to mine. I’ve had a long shift. I didn’t feel like doing any extra walking.”

Extra ? The guest house is right behind the main one .

Aimee is literally looking at it right now.

“And what do you mean by cameras? The only way you can see cameras is if you were in my office.” Patrick retorts.

“I stepped in to use the bathroom.”

Patrick lets out a frustrated sigh.

“I don’t know why you’re the one that’s upset here. Suppose our daughter had come home early, Patrick. Did you think about that?” Sheila complains.

“Courtney is at Allison’s house until Sunday afternoon, and you know that.”

“But suppose she came home early?”

“Then she would have called me to come get her, something else you also know. And for the record, I called and checked on her on the way here. She’s fine.”

“I could have come home with her,” she replies. Her voice is laced with attitude.

“How do you figure? Whenever Courtney needs a parent, she always comes to me.”

Sheila’s nostrils flare, and she stomps over to the guest house without saying a word.

“You made her mad,” Aimee teases.

“Let her be mad. She only lives on this property because of Court.”

“What’s her problem? I can’t be the first woman you’ve brought home.”

“Actually, you are.”

“I am?”

“Yes. I’ve had dalliances and dated casually, but I’ve never committed to anyone.

Sheila is an ER nurse at St. Augustine that I dated briefly and hooked up with a couple of times after the breakup.

She got pregnant during one of our hook-ups.

She saw it as a come up and thought she would become Mrs. Patrick Bryant.

I told her that wasn’t going to happen, but that I would take care of her and Courtney, and I have. ”

“How did your grandmother take the news of the pregnancy?”

“Baby, I got a woman I wasn’t married to pregnant. She was not pleased. Hell, by that point, she had given up on finding me a “suitable” bride because I’d told every woman she introduced me to that I never wanted to get married. It’s always been you or no one, Aimee.”

“You can fuck me senseless, now.”

“With pleasure.” He smirks.