Chapter 10 Basia
BASIA
Iwake up with a gasp, looking around for my dream man. It felt so real, but the edges of the memory are hazy and slipping away like sand in an hourglass.
The man was kneeling over me, touching me, rubbing against me. And just like in dreams, it was better than any encounter I’ve had in real life. He was huge, incredibly fit, tattooed, and had a dirty mouth like one of the characters in my old BDSM novels.
The man was… Caleb.
I’m sure of it. Even with something dark covering the lower half of his face, it’s just not possible for me to mistake those wide shoulders, those intense brown eyes. Not to mention the smell of his cologne.
The only question is… was it a dream? Or was it something else?
And why am I not completely freaked out? After all, if my instinct is right, and this wasn’t just an incredibly erotic dream, my bodyguard came into my room and made me come in my sleep. Has he done it before? I mean, I dream about him so often…
I find my phone next to me and open my text messages. I skip past strait-laced Morgan and tap on Barbara’s thread. She’s loud and adventurous. She’ll understand. Maybe.
Me:
Got a minute for a call? Super sensitive information
It doesn’t take long at all to get a reply, just a few seconds of me anxiously looking at the almost-closed door to my bedroom.
Barbs:
Hell yeah! Spill the tea
Tea… I look at the empty teacup still on my nightstand.
It’s not unusual for Caleb to make me tea, but he’s been bringing me a cup every night before bed without fail lately.
I pick it up and look at the bottom where the tan liquid dried.
Of course, I don’t see anything unusual.
Gingerly, I put it back down before sneaking into the bathroom.
Caleb’s making breakfast in the kitchen, Poe meowing and begging for his own food. I lock the door and turn on the shower for cover, then tap on Barbara’s contact. She answers after just one ring.
“Woman, what took you so long? I’ve been hiding in the bathroom for three minutes already waiting for you.”
I can’t help but laugh at the visual.
“I’m in the bathroom too,” I whisper. “Great minds?”
Barbara ignores the opportunity to make a toilet joke.
“Okay,” she starts with a low voice. “You don’t text like that unless something is very wrong or very unhinged. Which one are we dealing with?”
“Possibly both,” I whisper, leaning my hip against the bathroom counter. The mirror reflects my own wide eyes, hair a mess, cheeks flushed like I’ve been caught doing something I shouldn’t. “I had… a dream.”
Barbara snorts. “Bas, if you’re calling me from the bathroom to tell me about a sex dream, I’m hanging up.”
“Don’t,” I say quickly. “Please. This one was… different.”
There’s a pause. Then a gust of air before she speaks again. “Okay. I’m listening.”
I swallow. The shower hisses behind me, steam fogging the mirror. I’m just thinking about what I need to reveal and my heart starts racing again.
“I dreamed someone was in my room,” I say slowly, choosing each word with care. “Someone touching me. Sensually... It wasn’t violent, just… very real. Like I wasn’t asleep at all.”
Barbara doesn’t interrupt.
“And I could feel it,” I continue. “Not just in a vague, dreamy way. It was… familiar.”
“Basia,” Barb says gently, “whose face did you see?”
I close my eyes. “That’s the thing. I didn’t. Not really. But I knew.”
Her breath catches on the other end of the line, like I really am dishing hot gossip. “Knew who?”
“Caleb.”
The word hangs between us, heavy and electric, like the man himself.
“Okay,” Barbara says carefully. “We are not panicking yet. Let’s establish facts. You’re under a lot of stress. You have a stalker. You live with a man who looks like a Greek statue carved by trauma. Dreams can get… creative.”
“I know,” I say quickly. “I know all that. I told myself the same thing. But Barb… it didn’t feel like a dream. It felt like I woke up in the middle of something… super hot.”
I notice the time and start stripping. I’m going to be late for work again if I’m not careful, and the shower’s warmth is calling to me. I finish folding my pajamas and look at myself in the fogged-up mirror.
What the…
“And,” I add, my voice barely audible now, “there are other things.”
“Such as,” Barbara prompts.
I hesitate, then glance down at myself, double-checking what I already know.
“I’m not wearing the underwear I went to bed in.”
Silence.
“Girl… what?” Barbara finally says.
“I know exactly what I put on last night,” I rush on, words tumbling over each other. “It was the white cotton pair. The soft ones with the stupid little red bow. I remember because I almost didn’t wear them, but I’d just done laundry, and they were still warm.”
My throat tightens. I look down again.
“I’m wearing purple seamless,” I whisper. “I’d never sleep in these.”
Barbara exhales sharply. “Okay. Okay. Don’t spiral yet. Is there any chance you changed in your sleep?”
“I don’t sleepwalk,” I say. “I never have. And even if I did… why would I change into something functional like I’m about to put on a pencil skirt?”
“Bas,” Barbara says slowly, “I have to admit this is a bit weird.”
“Yes,” I croak, then clear my throat. “Oh, and Caleb started bringing me tea. Every night. Chamomile. Sometimes ginger. To help me sleep.”
“And does it?” she asks. “Help you sleep?”
I think about how deeply I’ve been sleeping lately. How I haven’t woken up once to Poe batting my face for attention. How my dreams have been… vivid.
“Yeah,” I breathe.
Barbara doesn’t say anything for a moment, then hums thoughtfully.
“Okay. Here’s the important part. How do you feel right now?”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” she says carefully, “are you scared? Disgusted? Angry? Ethan and I have done some… questionable things. So I won’t judge.”
I look down at my toenails with their chipping pink lacquer.
“I’m confused,” I admit after a while. “Embarrassed. A little shaken.”
“And?” She draws the word out.
“And…” I hesitate. “I’m not terrified. I don’t feel violated. It’s… Caleb.”
There it is. The truth I’ve been circling, finally said out loud.
Barbara lets out a long breath. “Okay. That matters.”
“Does it?” I ask, running my hand through my hair. “Because shouldn’t I be calling the police right now if my bodyguard did something to me in my sleep?”
“In theory? Yes,” she says gently. “In reality? This is messy. And personal. And it feels so on brand for these guys.”
I huff out a weak laugh. “That’s not reassuring.”
“Basia,” she says firmly, “I’m not saying this is okay. I’m saying you don’t have to decide anything right now. You’re safe this second, yes?”
I glance at the locked bathroom door. At the steam curling around me. At the faint sounds of Caleb moving in the kitchen, completely ordinary. I know he’d guard me with his life.
“I… Yes.”
“Good,” Barbara says. “Then breathe. Finish your shower. And don’t confront him yet.”
“Yet?” I echo.
“Yet,” she confirms. “Because if something is going on, you need proof. And clarity. Or you’ll blow your life up.”
My chest tightens. My heartbeat pounds in my ears as I finally let myself say what I’ve been thinking since I woke up.
“What if I don’t want him to stop?”
“Oh, yeah. There it is.” There’s a smile in Barbara’s voice now, and I feel blood rushing to my face, my defenses rising faster than the price of eggs.
“I was being hypothetical. I didn’t say—”
“You didn’t have to,” she interrupts gently. “Bas, you’ve had a crush on that man since day one. And obviously he feels the same way, though the way he’s going at it is… objectively kind of fucked up.”
I lean my forehead against the cool tile, huffing out a half-hysterical laugh.
“So what do I do?”
Barbara hums. “If you don’t want him to stop, nothing obvious, I guess. Pay attention. Trust your instincts. And maybe… don’t drink the tea tonight.”
I swallow. “Like… trick him?”
“Exactly. Catch him in the act, so to speak. Get confirmation. And Bas?”
“Yeah?”
“If you need to talk about this again… I’m here.”
My eyes burn with gratitude. Who else could I talk about this stuff with without getting my bodyguard arrested and myself killed by a deranged stalker?
“Thanks, Barb,” I say, my voice hoarse.
“Anytime,” she says softly. “Now go put your game face on.”
I hang up with a snort and finally step into the shower—after shoving the offending purple panties deep into the laundry basket. A quick rinse later, I turn it off and step out into the steamy quiet, my mind buzzing.
When I open the bathroom door, wrapped in my fuzzy pink robe, the smell of breakfast greets me. Eggs. Toast. Coffee. A luxury I’ve quickly gotten used to.
Caleb’s voice drifts down the hall, calm and familiar. “Morning, Basia. You sleep okay?”
I close my eyes and think of the way my dream man made me feel. About how Caleb makes me feel.
A shiver runs down my spine. When I open my eyes, I have a plan in place.
“Yeah,” I say, forcing a smile as I step into the light. “Like a rock.”