Chapter 51
Chapter Fifty-One
J
It’s sweltering.
I’m burning up under something heavy and hot.
From somewhere outside of me, I sense that I’m trapped under a blanket, and I kick it off.
Perfect. Much better.
I go back to sleep.
What feels like seconds later, cold air gnaws at the bare skin of my arms and toes. It feels like I’m stuck in the Russian tundra. Half-conscious, I search for warmth again. Where did the comforter go?
I wiggle around until I make contact with something big and emitting heat.
Oooh. Much better.
Burrowing into the large heater, I return to sleep.
Minutes later, my heater starts moving around. I’m not sure if I’m dreaming or awake this time, but I instinctively latch on to keep it still. I don’t want to be cold again and I already lost my comforter once. I’m not going through that awful chill a second time.
My heater has hands because it starts prying at my fingertips. How strange.
I wrap my legs around it, holding it prisoner. “Stay,” I mumble.
It listens for a second.
A sleepy smile tugs at my lips and I fall back asleep. Weirdly, I can sense the heater vibrating even in my dreams. How big is this machine anyway?
I slide my hand over the length of it and then hear a deep, chilling voice warn, “If your hand goes any lower, I won’t be responsible for what happens next.”
Prying my eyelids apart, I see the hazy vision of a man looking down at me. Black, messy hair falls just short of two thick, black eyebrows. Eyes the color of precious onyx stones drill into my face.
Huh. My body warmer looks like Finn.
I must be dreaming because there’s no way Finn would let me get this close to him in bed. Even if he did, my body wouldn’t be this calm about it.
Lately, Finn doesn’t have to do much to me before my heart starts racing. Sometimes, he just gives me that cold, princely look, and my watch is ready to flash yellow. It’s embarrassing.
I lift a finger and trace it down his nose and then across his high, protruding cheekbones.
Then I check my watch.
My heart continues beating at a slow, steady pace.
It’s confirmed. I am dreaming.
Happiness surges through me. The grin must reflect on my face because Dream Finn arches a brow. That’s a very accurate representation of how Real Finn would look at me. It’s like he can’t decide if he should choke me or send me to the psych ward at any given moment.
My attention snags on Dream Finn’s lips. They’re incredibly sexy lips, and I didn’t appreciate them the first time I kissed him. To be fair, the first time I kissed him, I was disgusted. Now, I brush my nail over the rim of his mouth, tracing the deep V in the center.
“You have the best lips.” My words mush together, hardly understandable. “They’re so soft too. Unlike the rest of you.”
I press my hand to his chest. Wow. Hard. Firm. A testament to consistent workouts and dedication to the gym. Finn has a body that feels earned.
I nuzzle my nose against his left pec, smiling. Mere inches away from his heart, I can hear it beating away.
Strong.
Steady.
Just like Finn.
How are all my senses engaged in this dream?
When I dream about Gran—which is often—it’s hard to smell or taste or feel. But for some reason, I can feel Finn’s skin beneath my hand, and I can even smell the subtle fragrance of his body wash.
“Mm.” The hum travels from deep inside my body as I slide my palm over the hills and valleys of his arm up to his shoulder and neck.
My watch is quiet.
So beautifully silent.
How refreshing.
What should I touch now? I feel like a kid in a toy store. More accurately, a kid with a blank check in a toy store. I can have anything I want. Take things off the shelf, rip the packaging, and play to my heart’s content.
Should I go below the belt and find out what all the fuss about The Kings is about?
Or grab him by the neck the way he does so often to me?
Should I threaten to kill him and see how he likes it?
I smile again.
Finn grunts. “What are you so happy about?”
My eyes slide down his arm, and I let my fingers follow the same trajectory until I reach his hand. There, I wrap my fingers around his.
Finn’s eyes narrow.
Mine widen.
Whoa.
“So this is what it feels like,” I murmur, feeling choked up.
Finn tilts his head. “Holding hands?”
“I wish I could touch someone like this in real life,” I murmur, dazed at the sight of our joined hands.
His palm is rough and hard. There are callouses from playing the bass guitar on the tips of his fingers, and his knuckles are scabbed over with new and old wounds.
“If I ever truly fall in love with someone, they’ll have to treat me like I have an infectious disease. Something this small”—I blink rapidly, feeling my emotions swell—“is impossible for me.”
This is why I revealed myself to Finn and The Kings. This is why I keep risking my life, pushing forward and ingratiating myself to them despite their suspicions.
It’s my deepest desire to be close to someone I love one day.
And the only way to get what I need is to give them what they want.
Dream Finn shifts his hand away. And I’m so used to Finn pulling back in real life that it doesn’t affect me at all.
Except he’s not pulling away from me. He’s shifting his wrist so he can weave our fingers together. The sensation of his fingers interlocking with mine makes tingles spread up my spine.
I give his hand a squeeze and look up with a watery smile. “Finn?”
He grunts.
“Someday,” I swear to him and to myself, “someday, this will happen to me for real with someone who loves me.”
Finn blinks, and then his eyes dip to my mouth.
I hold perfectly still as he leans forward inch by inch. Why is he moving in slow motion? Am I about to wake up?
Please don’t let me wake up…
Closer.
Please.
Closer.
Dream Finn’s lips caress mine with a gentleness Real Finn could never express. His left hand cradles my face. His touch is shaky, as if he’s doing his best to be as light and tender as he can with me.
And my watch beeps.
Dream Finn pulls back, his eyes slicing to my watch in alarm, but I’m not ready for him to stop. My watch has beeped in my dreams before. Normally it’s during a nightmare and it wakes me up.
But this is not a nightmare.
This is the best dream I’ve ever had, and I do not want it to end.
I surge forward, closing the distance between us and planting my mouth on his. I’m used to kissing Finn in real life, but something about this dream kiss is different.
I can’t put my finger on why.
And then it hits me.
This time, Finn is kissing me back.
Dream Finn is just as commanding and intense as Real Finn. He takes control immediately and swipes his tongue across my bottom lip.
The deepest parts of my soul stir awake, and I groan.
He responds by raking his hands through my hair and gathering me up by the neck, pulling me forward. Finn’s skin is hot enough to burn, and while his lips are soft, his kisses are not. He devours my mouth, his kisses incessant, balancing on a knife’s edge between hunger and harm.
I feel a sense of overwhelm, a snapping of restraint, as if whatever decision that allowed him to be gentle with me before is gone now.
My head slams into the pillow as he changes the angle to kiss me harder.
It’s aggressive.
Hot.
Deadly.
And I want more.
My watch keeps beeping as I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him into me.
The bed rocks, and I don’t even realize he’s climbing over me until I feel myself sinking into the mattress.
His hands settle around my hips, and I fuse my body to his, moaning when I feel the friction of hard against soft.
My heart is racing.
My pulse is jumping.
The tightness in my chest threatens to pull me out of the dream, but I fight to ignore it.
Finn backs off again.
Beeep!
“Don’t stop,” I whisper, hoping I’m louder in a dream than my watch is.
Dream Finn curses. “J.”
My hands are up around his neck so I can see my watch face.
It’s orange.
Beeep!
“J!” Finn’s voice sounds panicked. But it also sounds like it’s coming from far away.
The world grows hazy again.
I flop back into the pillows as everything goes black.