8. Chapter 8
She knew she was dreaming. Yet as many good dreams go, the person dreaming doesn’t want to admit that it’s a dream at all.
In Sarah’s case, nobody could blame her for refusing to wake up.
Part of it was embarrassment. A little shame. Because she dreamed of Luca Blackbourne having sex with her right there in her bedroom.
No context. She didn’t need context. This was her brain’s way of making sense of what happened with Luca and what continued to happen in her life.
Yes. That was it. That was her excuse. Dreaming about Luca fucking her in the most damn primal way.
“Do you like the way I take you, Sarah?” Damn her brain for echoing her real name. She was supposed to be Angel! Luca did not fuck Sarah. She only fucked Angel. “Do you always crave me like this?”
She groaned, that sound echoing in her head like a siren going off over and over again. A warning siren.
But dreams were supposed to be harmless, right?
“Yes.” Sarah didn’t want to admit it in real life, and she could barely do it in her mind. “Fuck, yes, I want you.”
Only in a dream could a woman be everywhere and do everything at once.
Depended on what Sarah fantasized about at any given moment, she supposed.
Of course, her favorite instance was when Luca fucked her with crazy abandon, Sarah’s hands plastered against her strong, sturdy shoulders.
Her hips slammed forward until she felt everything plunging into her with rapid-fire precision.
“Do I make you happy? Do I make you whole again?”
“Yes…”
Sarah awoke to a shadow in her doorway. Sweat dripped down her forehead, not from the fever of a virus, but arousal. Damn me. She both wanted to go back to her dirty dream and to run away from her sweat-covered sheets.
“You okay?”
Nigel’s voice was like a punch to her forehead. “Yeah. What are you doing here?”
He entered. The darkness of her room couldn’t hide the familiar way he walked to her bedside. Neither of them hesitated over his getting beneath the covers and turning toward her. “Went to the bathroom and heard you moaning like you were in pain.”
You have no idea. “Where’s Carly?”
“Asleep.”
“In your room?”
Nigel snorted. “Of course.”
“She won’t care if you’re in here with me?”
“Why would she care? You’re my sister. She doesn’t think it’s like…”
Neither of them ever said the I word out loud.
How could it be incestual to find solace in her brother’s arms?
To cry in his presence? To use nothing but her eyes and a blip off her lips to tell him how everything was wrong?
They grew in the womb together. They may not be identical twins split from the same egg, but they still shared a bond that was unrivaled in every other area of life.
They were closer to each other than anyone else.
“You having a bad dream?”
“Not really. Just vivid.”
“Is it because of that woman today?”
Now that was what sucked about having a twin. The bastard was too perceptive for his own good. Sarah probably revealed her tells when they were two gestating ova. “Maybe.”
“She causing you problems?”
“No.”
“Then what’s wrong?”
“You know how it is for me at the office. Things are weird.”
“So quit.”
“You know I can’t.”
Nigel was silent. They depended on Sarah’s income now that Nigel’s had been slashed.
Working for Ms. Moreau together had built them a nice buffer should either or both get fired.
Well, Nigel was forced to resign, and his new wage at the gourmet pizza shop wasn’t enough to cover his own bills, let alone the apartment’s.
Sarah didn’t mind, but it did put more pressure on her to perform at work.
And then there was Alicia Moreau, walking around with her baby belly and reminding Sarah of what she could have had if she had so chosen.
And Russell Moreau, whom she avoided but sometimes could not get away from seeing.
No wonder Sarah had shut down most of her everyday emotions. There were triggers everywhere.
“You need company tonight?”
“No.”
“All right.” Nigel lightly gripped his sister’s arm before crawling out of her bed. “You know where to find me.”
“With your girlfriend.”
“As I said,” Nigel stopped halfway across the room, “she doesn’t hold it against us.”
“Better hang on to that one. Who knows when you’ll find another girl who isn’t jealous of her boyfriend’s twin sister.”
Nigel said nothing as he left. Sarah turned over and sighed. She did not dream of Luca for the rest of the night.
“Do I make you whole again?”
That’s what she woke up thinking about. Not about the hot sex they were having in her dream, but that one line that would fuck her up for the rest of the weekend.
Sarah glanced at the clock and hopped out of bed. Stop thinking about that dream. No shit she thought Luca was hot. No shit she wanted to keep banging until her poor pussy gave up the ghost. Noooo shit.
That didn’t mean she wanted to actually think about it. God, no.
Sarah pulled on her thickest bathrobe even though the apartment was always a tepid seventy-five degrees.
The smell of bacon and eggs hit her as she went to the bathroom and splashed water onto her face.
Sounds of Carly and Nigel’s voices drifted down through the open bathroom door.
Sarah gave her hair a once-over with a brush before heading out to see what everyone was up to on a late Sunday morning.
That wasn’t just bacon and eggs perfuming the air.
Flowers.
Bouquets of them.
Sarah’s eyes widened as she stepped out from the hallway and stared at the three bouquets of roses lining the island counter.
She looked for her brother, walking away from the front door with a fourth bouquet and a scowl on his face.
“Somebody’s popular!” Carly exclaimed from the stove. She tossed a fried egg with a spatula before flashing Sarah a wide, pearly-white smile.
“Somebody, huh?”
“Yeah.” Nigel put the fourth bouquet on the counter. Four dozen red roses, freshly bloomed, cut, and spritzed, drank up the late winter sunlight coming through the windows. Each one sported a cream-colored notecard in the same spot. “Very popular.”
Both he and Carly looked at Sarah. Nigel with trepidation, and Carly with excitement.
“Go on! Tell us who they’re from!”
Nigel and Sarah shared a look that implied they knew who it was from. Even so, Sarah slowly approached and picked up the card from the bouquet near her.
“I want to get to know you.”
She dropped the card and picked up the next one.
“I want to know what you’re thinking and why you do what you do.”
The next one.
“I want to get to know the woman beneath the blond wig.”
The last one.
“Have dinner with me tonight at 7.”
Just as Sarah tossed all four notes into the trash, the doorbell rang. Grunting, Nigel went to the door and brought back one last bouquet of red roses.
“I won’t take no for an answer.”
The back of the final card relayed the location of this supposed dinner. Sarah tore it in half and sprinkled the bits on top of the kitchen garbage.
“We don’t like this guy, huh?” Carly said behind her.
Nigel approached. “Give us a minute, hon.”
Carly waited exactly one beat before turning off the stove and moving the skillet to another burner. “I’ll find some cute places for these flowers.”
“You can have them,” Sarah grumbled.
“That bathroom could use freshening up.” Carly walked away with a vase in her hands.
Nigel waited until his girlfriend was gone before speaking to his sister with a low, cautious voice. “This is from that Ms. Blackbourne, isn’t it?”
Sarah didn’t have to dig out one of the cards to read the initials and know that her brother was right.
She knew they were from Luca the moment she walked into the room.
Only a flippant rich person would send five dozen roses on a Sunday morning.
“Yes. Seems so. I think she has a crush on me.” She glanced at her brother’s angry countenance. “It does not go both ways.”
“This is…”
“I lied to you, though.” Sarah pulled three plates out of the cupboard above her head. No sense standing around and letting Carly’s breakfast grow cold without some presentation. “I did sleep with her, but I didn’t know who she was. It’s not happening again.”
“Fuck.”
At least he didn’t chastise her. That had never been Nigel’s style.
I present the facts, and he works with the facts.
Fact: Sarah had slept with this woman. Fact: this woman now fancied her.
No point telling Sarah she was stupid for fucking yet another rich asshole, as if it was so easy to begin with.
Luca was certainly a step up from Russell, but…
“I honestly didn’t know I would see her again. I was shocked to see her last week.”
“It only happened once?”
Sarah nodded.
“Then she should respect it’s not happening again.”
“I agree with you. I’ll talk to her about it tomorrow.”
“At work?”
“Ms. Moreau can deal with it.”
“Ah, Jesus, Sarah… she can’t know about it.”
Sarah bristled. “I agree, but I won’t tell her if nobody else does.”
“You’re good at looking past the crap and getting your job done. Is this Blackbourne? You know how people like her are.”
She flashed him a derisive look. “I sure do, Nigel.”
“Sorry. If you want, I’ll throw out these flowers.”
“No, don’t. No sense letting them go to waste. Let Carly take some if she wants. We’ll put one in the living room, and I guess one’s in the bathroom now.”
“Maybe I could take them to work tomorrow. Sometimes we give away flowers to couples on dates.”
“Do that, then.”
“Sarah.” Nigel wrapped his arm around her shoulders. His instant comfort may have been much needed, but she wouldn’t let down her guard. “You gonna be okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“After what happened Friday…”
“I’m fine!”
Her brother backed off. “Carly and I are going to the zoo later today. Wanna come?”
Yes. Sarah wanted to be wrapped up in the safety of her brother and his girlfriend. She wanted to go out and forget about Luca, about Russell, about her precarious situation at work and the dangerous things she did to feel alive once in a while.