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Jamie

J amie had fucked it all up.

You don’t go around kissing people without their consent , he chastised himself, kicking his foot against the outer brick wall of the bar. Big fucking no-no.

The alley was deserted now. Empty. A fact that was completely Jamie’s fault.

But he was still having a hard time keeping the smile off his face.

He tried to twist his lips into a frown. No smiling. Very bad. You did a bad thing. Naughty boy. You scared him off.

But really, how could he not smile? He’d finally met him. In the flesh. In the real fucking world. The literal man of his dreams. Or, you know, monster of his dreams, to be precise.

And ohhh, Dream Guy was just as scrumptious as Jamie had seen in the visions. Tall, built, intense. Smelling like absolute sin. With that lovely little smattering of salt and pepper at the temples of his abundant dark hair.

Hello, Monster Daddy.

Sure, he’d been looking a little worse for wear.

Definitely more rumpled than Jamie was used to seeing, with his scruff more overgrown than usual.

But he still managed to look like he should be in some Italian ad for Campari or whatever.

And the way he’d stopped in his tracks and stared at Jamie like he was the fucking Holy Grail or something?

So hot .

Could Jamie really be blamed for wanting to make out with him until the sun came up? For slamming their mouths together the moment he was in reach? After all, Jamie had been waiting for him all his adult life. Which, okay, was only five years, but that was like almost a quarter of his existence.

But after tearing his lips away, Dream Guy hadn’t greeted Jamie with any recognition or exuberance. He’d just held those beautiful, built muscles tense with unnatural stillness, those black eyes focused on Jamie with unwavering intensity, not even breathing, as far as Jamie could tell.

Possibly because Dream Guy didn’t need to breathe at all. Jamie wasn’t quite sure how that worked yet.

Jamie had taken a step back, immediately regretting the distance. But apparently they were starting at square one, and Jamie had really needed to slow his roll before he scared him off entirely.

But still. “Smile for me?” Jamie hadn’t been able to help asking. He’d wanted to see those chompers in the flesh, so to speak.

But Dream Guy’s lips had stayed firmly closed, that stern, stunned expression frozen in place on his handsome face.

“Hmm.” Jamie had pursed his lips thoughtfully, tapping his fingers restlessly against his jeans, wishing he hadn’t dropped that cigarette.

He could have used something to take the edge off.

It was the moment he’d been waiting for since he was a teenager—the very first time he’d had the vision but definitely not the last.

“Are you going to say anything?” he’d asked, cocking his head.

A slight shake of the head, that intense gaze still focused on Jamie. He’d wanted to bask in it, like the fucking sun.

“Can I touch you?”

Another shake of the head, more pronounced this time.

It was all a bit surprising because damn, Jamie hadn’t expected his dream guy to be so fucking shy .

He’d sighed, rocking back on his heels, shoving his hands into his pockets to stop the nervous finger tapping. “So no talking and no touching. All right, then. Clearly you need some time to process or whatever. But I’ll be back tomorrow night. I expect to see you here. Don’t fuck it up.”

He hadn’t bothered explaining what it was. Whatever Dream Guy knew or didn’t know about the two of them, he’d clearly had an intense reaction to Jamie’s presence. He had to have some sense of their connection.

Jamie would have to have faith. And maybe a bit of patience.

He could do that. Probably. The former he was good enough with, the latter…well, he’d waited this long. He could wait a little longer.

But not much longer, please and thank you.

Dream Guy had nodded slightly at his words, his hands clenching at his sides. Fuck, but Jamie had wanted him to speak. Was his voice as gruff and raspy and delicious as it sounded in Jamie’s head?

But it wasn’t happening that night. He’d watched as Dream Guy turned and left the alleyway, his movements stiff and unnatural. Jamie knew for a fact he could move with more languid grace than that. Must have been having an off day.

It had taken everything in Jamie to hold still when he’d fled, to not run after his monster and cling to his side like a fucking mollusk. But Jamie wasn’t going to beg anyone to stay who didn’t want to. That wasn’t something he would ever do.

The plus side was he’d gotten a real nice view of an amazing , muscled ass on the guy’s way out. Dream Guy could fill out that denim; that was for sure.

“Fuck, yes,” Jamie breathed, adjusting himself in his own jeans as he thought back on it. Soon enough he’d get his hands on that ass. That body. That cock.

He laughed to himself, heading back into the bar through the back door.

His life was just getting better and better.

Monique was inside, wiping down the counter, her black braids swishing with her movements.

It looked like she’d already kicked the patrons out for the night.

She glanced up at Jamie’s entrance, eyes widening as she took him in.

“What the fuck are you smiling like that for? Someone just suck you off in the alleyway?”

Jamie laughed wildly, feeling a little manic. “I fucking wish.”

He skipped up to the bar, plopping himself down on a stool. “But nope. Better. Much better. I just met—” He paused for dramatic effect. “—the One.”

Monique halted her cleaning, eyeing him like he’d just announced he’d flown to the moon and back. “Excuse me?”

Jamie nodded sagely. It was impressive news; he didn’t blame her awe. “I’ve met him. The One.”

She cocked her head at him, arching a brow. “Just now. In the alleyway.”

“Yep.”

Monique dropped the rag she’d been using and crossed her arms, leaning a hip against the bar, giving him her undivided attention. “And what’s his name?”

Jamie shrugged. “No idea.”

“Okay…” Monique let out a slow breath, clearly using all her stores of patience to deal with him in his current state of euphoria. “What’s his deal, then?”

Jamie shook his head. “Couldn’t tell ya.”

They had a stare-off then, Jamie trying but completely unable to keep the stupid grin off his face. Monique blinked first, eventually shrugging and giving him a wry smile. “Is this one of those things I’m just gonna have to chalk up to Jamie being Jamie?”

“Jamie being Jamie” was how they danced around the issues of some of Jamie’s…particular weirdness.

“Sure is,” he answered cheerfully.

“Okay, well, congrats on meeting ‘the One.’” She used air quotes around the words, just to be a bitch. Jamie didn’t mind.

“You’re gonna have to ask Alice to help you out tomorrow,” he warned her. “I’ve got a date.”

That finally seemed to get to her. “Man, really ? You’re just gonna bail on me like that?”

Jamie shrugged. “Sorry, darling. It’s an emergency. And I’m not officially your employee. Plus, this way, you get to flirt with sweet Alice all night long.”

Monique paused thoughtfully at that. “Solid point. I think she’s pretty close to going on a date with me.” She waved a dismissive hand at him. “Fine. Do as you will.”

Excellent. Everything was working out perfectly. Jamie resisted the urge to throw his head back and laugh like some evil mastermind. He cleared his throat. “Mind if I have a beer while you wipe up? I’ll get the chairs for you after.”

Monique shrugged. “Suit yourself. But drink it silently. I’m not talking to you while you’re this…giddy. It’s freaking me out.”

Jamie waved off her hesitance. “Whatever. I’m always in a good mood. This is nothing new.”

“Yes, you are always in a good mood, weirdo. But not usually this”—she gestured vaguely at him—“ this .”

He tossed a coaster at her, which she dodged with ease, ducking under the counter and setting a can of beer on the bar for him. He nodded his thanks, miming zipping his lips.

He didn’t mind if she wanted silence. That suited him better anyway. He had things to think about. Plans to make.

A monster to make his.

The visions had started when he was a teenager.

Well, no, the visions had been going on for as long as Jamie could remember. But the visions of his dream guy had started somewhere around his eighteenth birthday. Like a gift from the heavens, if Jamie believed in stuff like that.

Which he sure as shit did not.

But still. A gift. Because he’d known—he’d immediately known —that this was the man for him. His person. His motherfucking soulmate .

It hadn’t been anything special. A handsome man adjusting the cuffs on a sleek leather jacket. But Jamie had felt an indescribable pull to that man. So that’s my type , he’d thought. That’s exactly it. No one else will do.

The visions of him had come regularly after that first night.

At least weekly, sometimes more. Jamie’s favorite weeks were those where he got more than one.

They…fed him. Fed his soul. He had a person out there, just for him.

And he knew it was only a matter of time before their paths crossed in the real world, beyond the bounds of Jamie’s head.

And would you look at that? He’d been right.

He’d never heard a name—never seen anyone address the stranger by one—so Jamie had taken to calling him Dream Guy. As in, the man of his dreams. That was, until he’d seen Dream Guy rip out someone’s jugular and drink from it . With his fucking fangs .

And then Jamie had realized the man of his dreams was more like the monster of his dreams.

As to what kind of monster his visionary boo was, what with the blood drinking and the pointy chompers, vampire was what Jamie had come up with. But who the fuck really knew? Jamie had never met anyone other than human before.

Unless you counted himself.

Jamie didn’t count himself.