Chapter 15 #3
A huge, oversized hoodie appears hanging over the back of a new chair, paint stains on the sleeve. Then a yellow rose in a little glass vase on the windowsill.
He’s filling my apartment with them and me, and I watch him do it. The itchy, overwhelmed feeling starts to soften.
Paul looks around once, then makes a tiny adjustment to the position of a cushion before he turns back to me.
“Better?”
“Yeah.” My voice wobbles. “Yeah. Thank you.”
He comes back to the bed and lies down. This time, when he opens his arms, I go into them willingly. He tugs my head under his chin before his hand comes up to stroke my back again.
“When I was younger and stuck in my nightmares, the bad ones I couldn’t pull out of, I used to recite fairy tales to myself.
I’d read them before bed, hoping to dream about them, and when I fell into the nightmare anyway, they were all I had.
I’d sit in the dark in my subconscious state and tell them.
To myself.” His chest rises slowly. “I still remember all of them.”
I lean back to look up at him. “I’m sorry you’re having nightmares.”
“Don’t be. I would endure them all my life if it meant I’d get to have you.”
I want to say something to that.
I don’t, because I don’t know what or how.
“It’s not like reading a book, but I could tell one to you?”
I blink up at him. “You’d do that?”
“Of course.”
He pulls me closer, and I shift until my cheek is against his chest. His arm comes around me, and he glides his fingers through my hair.
He starts with Sleeping Beauty.
Of course, he does.
He kisses the top of my head once, then keeps going. I close my eyes and try to follow him into it, and I do, for a little while. The sound of his voice and the weight of his arm feel grounding in a way I can’t describe, but then my thoughts find their way back in anyway.
Paul saying all those things to reassure me, and meanwhile, in waking life, I kissed Nevan, and in my last dream, I did a lot worse with Ridge. Now, I’m lying here in Paul’s arms, letting him stroke my hair and tell me about a sleeping girl who got rescued by someone who loved her.
“You should be mad at me.”
“I could never be.” He looks down at me. “But why?”
“Because I just…” I press my teeth together. “I went off at you about wanting my best friend, when I—”
“When you want mine?”
My stomach drops straight through the floor.
Time to put your big girl panties on, Lenny.
“Yes. And I kissed Nevan.”
“So he told us.”
“And in my last dream, Ridge and I…” I make a vague gesture with one hand. “We were not exactly discussing the weather.”
Paul is quiet for a moment, long enough that my stomach twists.
“Do you want the honest answer?”
“Always.”
His gaze holds mine.
“I’m not angry. But no, I don’t enjoy it. I don’t enjoy imagining you in someone else’s arms. I don’t enjoy knowing there are parts of you I have to share. I don’t enjoy the fact that when I found you, there were already pieces of your heart attached to other people.”
My throat tightens up, and I hate that feeling.
I’m a horrible person.
“But every time I try to imagine a future without you in it…” His mouth pulls into a tired smile. “I dislike that considerably more.”
My heart hurts because that’s Paul.
Not pretending or sugarcoating but telling the truth.
“I’m still trying to come to terms with it,” he admits quietly. “Some moments I think I understand. Others, I remember Ridge exists and feel way less evolved.”
A laugh escapes me before I can stop it.
His mouth twitches. “See? Progress.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know.” His thumb brushes slowly across my cheek.
“I’ve known since the day I met you that your heart was too big for neat little categories.
You drove across the country for Tessa.” He trails his thumb down to my jaw, making goose bumps rise in his wake.
“You became a friend to Nevan when he desperately needed one. You crossed a hallway for Ridge when everyone else stopped trying.”
His voice drops lower. “One of the things I love most about you is that you refuse to abandon people.”
Love.
“So no, I’m not angry.” Something flickers behind his eyes. “But I would be lying if I said this is easy for me.”
The honesty of it almost hurts more than reassurance would have.
“I appreciate that,” I whisper.
“I know. And for what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re finding this particularly easy either.” His arms close around me and pull me against him until there isn’t space left between us.
I breathe him in for a moment.
Then another.
Then I sigh because this damn feeling sits in my chest.
It’s not only him who should hate me.
“Do you think Nevan is mad at me?”
Paul takes a moment to think, and I’m glad he’s not reassuring me automatically. When he finally speaks, his voice is gentle. “No.”
My shoulders loosen.
“But he’s feeling guilty.”
“Guilty?”
“He kissed you, and now you’re stuck here. And knowing what I know about Nevan, he’s probably convinced himself he made things harder for you.”
That sounds exactly like him.
Fuck.
“And I just walked away.”
“Actually, you ran into another dimension.”
“Well…” I grimace. “When you put it like that.”
“I find context is important.”
Another laugh escapes me. “You’re mean, you know that?”
Paul shrugs. “I’m not perfect.”
“I disagree,” I murmur before kissing him again, and for the first time since Tessa left, the feeling of crawling out of my skin eases.
After a few languid kisses, I settle back against his chest, but the Nevan thing is still there.
“Is that why he isn’t here?”
“No. Nevan still can’t go lucid, and he’s nowhere near ready to attempt dream sharing. But he’s trying very hard for you.”
Oh, Nev.
“Is he sleeping right now? Could we—”
Paul catches my chin before I can finish. His mouth brushes mine once, twice, and by the third kiss, I’ve forgotten the rest of the sentence entirely.
When he pulls back, his eyes are darker. “Lennon, please tell me one thing. Do you want me?”
The tears sting before I can stop them.
I think about headlights in the rain, a gold-star tumbler full of ice water, and yellow roses. Darling. The careful way he pays attention.
Not a version of me, or a role, or what I can do for him.
Me.
“I’ve wanted you,” I whisper. “From the moment you hit me with your car.”
“That’s the worst declaration of want anyone has ever made,” he murmurs against my lips.
“But it’s true,” I argue before he captures my lips again for one last, unhurried kiss.
“You should go find him. Make sure you’re both done worrying.”
I make a guilty noise. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Darling.” His lips brush my temple.
“Yeah?”
“Tell Nevan I said hi.”