Dream Spinner (Dream Team Book 3)

by Kristen Ashley

  “For once, that guy is right,” he muttered.

  “Though, you told me yourself you were seeing someone.”

  “At that time, I still was, even though I intended to end it with her. That said, I told you that so you wouldn’t feel pressure and might feel safe connecting with me. Then, when I got you to that place, I was gonna move us forward.”

  Hmm.

  “Are you done talking so we can open up discussion now?” he asked, sounding amused.

  The amused part didn’t make me happy, seeing as this wasn’t super easy on me.

  Even so, we kinda already were discussing since I was letting him talk.

  Nevertheless, I squinted my eyes at him and snapped, “No.”

  “Right,” he murmured, now visibly fighting a smile.

  Grr.

  Onward!

  “So, obviously, I had something to say with my ‘Shut Up’ dance that I wanted you to hear but I thought you had a girlfriend and I also was still messed up myself. So maybe I shouldn’t have said it when I wasn’t giving you the opportunity to react to it, but I had to do it and so I did. And I’m sorry if that wasn’t the right thing to do or if that seemed like I was jacking you around. I can assure you, that was one hundred percent not my intent.”

  He said nothing.

  But when I said nothing either, he said, “Is it discussion time now?”

  “No,” I answered.

  This time, he dipped his ear toward his shoulder and twisted his neck to hide his outright smile.

  Really?

  “I’m not finding anything amusing,” I informed him. “This isn’t super easy.”

  He looked at me, still outright smiling. “I get that, honey. But you’re not experiencing the adorableness of you.”

  Adorableness?

  He thought I was adorable?

  Wow.

  Sweet.

  No.

  Concentrate!

  “Can I finish?” I asked snappishly, or maybe somewhat fake snappishly, but whatever.

  He threw out a hand in invitation to continue before crossing it on his chest again.

  So I continued.

  “However, even if you thought I was jacking you around, which I will repeat, I was not.”

  “I didn’t think you were jacking me around, baby,” he assured, again with the soft.

  And man, did I like that soft.

  “Good, but onward from that, I screwed up with the girls, and I know Lottie is special to you, but that’s mine and theirs and not for you to get in the middle of.”

  He looked like he was going to say something, thought better of it, and closed his mouth.

  Through all this, I kept speaking.

  “So, although everything you said in my studio was right, there were some ways it was wrong, but you still shouldn’t have broken into my studio and confronted me. Which you apologized about and that’s done. I’m not going over it. I’m noting it just to explain, maybe minutes after you left, that creeper called me so I obviously wasn’t going to phone you because you were mad at me. And …the way …you left …was kind of … final …”

  My words came funny, trailing off at the end, and I eventually stopped speaking because my body jerked seeing as he’d dropped his arms from his chest and started moving.

  Toward me.

  He did this declaring, “It’s discussion time now.”

  I started retreating, saying, “No, I’m not done.”

  Though, I kind of was, outside the hard part (or, the harder part), which was to share that I wanted to see where we went from here because I was really into him and he was a great kisser.

  “No, you’re not done,” he agreed, still stalking me.

  I was still retreating, and since I didn’t know the lay of the land, I bumped into an end table.

  I scooted around it.

  He kept speaking.

  And stalking.

  “And we’re not done,” he finished.

  “Okay, so maybe you get to talk freely now, but you don’t get to stalk me around your living room.”

  “You’d stop moving, I’d stop stalking,” he pointed out, still tracking me.

  “Why did you have to move at all?” I asked, still withdrawing.

  “Because we got a few more things to get straight,” he answered.

  “And we couldn’t do it from where we were?” I queried, high-pitched and somewhat frantically, because he was getting closer.

  I shifted to the side and then froze before bracing to make a dash, where to, I didn’t know, because he lunged.

  I didn’t get the opportunity to find where to go because he caught me around the waist with an arm before he turned his hips and shifted his leg, catching me at my calves.

  Yes, catching me at my calves.

  Like, kicking them out from under me.

  I swallowed a cry and grabbed on to his shoulders as I started to go down, but I didn’t hit floor.

  Axl moved quickly, controlling the fall, and I hit couch with Axl on top of me.

  I stared into his eyes from up close.

  And felt his weight on me.

  Both were very nice.

  “Um …” I mumbled.

  “Okay, Hattie,” he said quietly, “before we kiss and make up …”

  Eep!

  “ … it’s important you get it straight that no matter what, say we’re copacetic, but something tweaks you or worries you and you’re not sure it’s a big deal so you don’t want to bother me with it, or we’re in a fight and you think I’m mad at you, or you’re mad at me, it doesn’t matter. I’m your first fuckin’ call. You hear me?”

  “Um …” I repeated.

  “Baby, all you said is important, and I appreciate you givin’ that to me. I don’t have the words to express how happy I am you showed at my door at nearly three in the morning to work shit out between us. Finally. I also know how tough that was on you, so when I say I appreciate it, I seriously mean that. And eventually, when it’s not three in the morning, we’ll get into a lot of that or just decide to put it behind us. But this is important too. Really important. So confirm you heard me.”

  I nodded.

  And I did because I got how important it was, absolutely, seeing as he had to have my undivided attention by being full-out on top of me to share it with me.

  So, yup.

  I totally got it.

  “I get why you called Cisco,” he went on. “And he sat down with Hawk today and we’re all on it. Just don’t do that again. Right?”

  I nodded again.

  He studied my face, must have sensed I was telling the truth, because a change came over him, and since he was on me, it came over me too.

  I liked this change, it also terrified the crap out of me, then his gaze dropped to my mouth, and I experienced the supremely bizarre feeling of the terror receding and expanding at the same time.

  “Uh, Axl,” I called unsteadily.

  His eyes came to mine.

  “You guys are on it?” I asked.

  “I’ll brief you tomorrow, though we just got started and we got other shit happening, so we don’t have anything. Yet. But yes, we’re on it.”

  “Thanks,” I whispered.

  His lips tipped up, his eyes grew heated, and they fell to my mouth again.

  “Uh, Axl?” I repeated.

  He looked to me again.

  “I get you’re a commando and all, but just so I know for future reference, do commandos need to pin women to their couches in order to share things they think are important?”

  He out-and-out smiled before he answered, “Yeah.”

  “All righty then,” I mumbled.

  “You got a problem with that?” he asked.

  He felt good. His body was warm and heavy. His skin under my hands was sleek, the muscle under that hard. And bottom line, I’d been wanting this in all versions of it that it might come since the first time I clapped eyes on him.

  So, no.

  I didn’t ha
ve a problem with it.

  “No,” I answered.

  He gave a brief nod before continuing, “Mostly, though, after you gave me all of that, and what I knew it took for you to come and give it to me, and then getting down to talking about that asshole who’s fucking with you, I needed to be close to you. Not to mention, seeing as we’re about to make out, might as well be comfortable doing it.”

  Might as well.

  Yikes.

  Moving on.

  “Okay. Then, is there …I mean, um … making up?”

  “Yeah,” he confirmed.

  “Don’t you have to kind of be together to make up?”

  “Hattie, this is the longest non-relationship relationship in history. We’ve been together since the first time you shot me down for a date and I think you know that better than me.”

  Hmm.

  “But you had a girlfriend,” I reminded him.

  “No, I saw a woman briefly when you were giving me nothing to go on. I liked her. She liked me. I couldn’t get you out of my head when I was with her, which was fucked up and uncool. I knew just how fucked up and uncool that was when you lost it on yourself that day in the studio and my reaction to seeing your pain shared clear I needed to focus on what was important. So I sat down with her to finish it. When I told her we were done in that way, she said, ‘It’s the girl you’re pining for, isn’t it?’ So I wasn’t hiding it from her either. Which was more fucked up and uncool. But she’s nice. She’s sweet. She talked to me about you. And she told me not to give up, you’d come around. We like the same kind of movies and she mountain bikes, and so do I, so we hit trails. Like I said, she’s nice and sweet, she’s also gorgeous, so she’s already seeing another guy. But we’ve become good friends in a way she won’t lose me, and I hope you aren’t the kind of woman who can’t handle the man in her life having female friends.”

  My reaction to seeing your pain.

  Focus on what was important.

  The man in her life.

  “I don’t think I’m that kind of woman,” I said.

  Or, if I was, after he said all that, I wasn’t going to be any longer.

  “Good,” he muttered.

  “What kind of movies do you like?” I asked.

  “Lots, but with Peyton, it’s horror.”

  I pulled a face.

  He grinned at me.

  “I don’t mountain bike,” I told him.

  “I don’t care,” he told my mouth.

  I had a feeling we were getting to the making-up part.

  My hands, still on his shoulders, squeezed.

  His gaze came back to my eyes.

  “I have to text Brett. He’s waiting to take me home.”

  “His car took off before I closed the door.”

  I felt my eyes get big. “He told me he was waiting.”

  “And I told him he was relieved of duty.”

  “You didn’t leave your house.”

  “He got my message.”

  The head gesture.

  Men’s form of sign language.

  Okay, again …

  Moving on.

  “Right then, can you take me home, uh, after we’re finished?”

  “No, ’cause you’re staying here with me.”

  Um!

  “Pardon?”

  “Hattie, if you’d shut up, we’d make out to make up, but I’m not doin’ you on my couch or in my bed before I’ve even bought you dinner. We’re gonna make out to make up. You’re gonna sleep in my bed. I’ll sleep on the couch. I got shit on for tomorrow, some of that trying to figure out who’s dicking with you, so I gotta take off early. You text when you wake up. Me or one of the guys will come get you and take you home. And we’ll go out to dinner tomorrow, finish talking through shit, and start getting to know one another.”

  Oh boy.

  I really wanted to do all that.

  But we were already hitting a rough patch.

  I started it with, “I have to be at work at nine.”

  “Plenty of time for me to take you somewhere and that be someplace nice.”

  “Well, yes, but I go to my dad’s every night to make him dinner.”

  He didn’t miss a beat before he said, “If your father can’t cook his own meal, he’s getting delivery.”

  “Axl—”

  He put his finger to my lips.

  That was a way better way to interrupt me.

  “I know you don’t like it when I cut you off, baby, but this is a big deal. One kiss and a whole lot of mindfuck and we’re here. We’re here because we both want this, we both know it and we both know how bad we want it. I wanna hear about your dad. I wanna know about your life. I just wanna know you. But we just unfucked this. Give me twenty-four hours, at least, of unfucked before we court fucking it up again.”

  “Okay,” I whispered against his finger.

  “Okay,” he whispered back, taking that finger away, his gaze drifting again to my mouth.

  And his head following it.

  “I didn’t mean to mindfuck you,” I kept whispering.

  His head didn’t lift, but his eyes did, when he said, “One kiss, Hattie, and it was all worth it.”

  Oh my God!

  So nice!

  Then he slanted his head and gave me kiss two.

  And he was right.

  So right.

  It was all worth it.

  Totally.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Keep Putting in the Work

  HATTIE

  I woke feeling comfy and snuggly.

  Also rested and refreshed.

  That last was weird. I never woke feeling refreshed. I always woke feeling like I wanted to go back to sleep.

  Or maybe it was just that I didn’t want to get up.

  Now I felt …

  Great.

  I opened my eyes and saw dark gray sheets.

  This confused me because I had pastel pink sheets.

  Suddenly, I smiled.

  I was in Axl’s bed.

  And it was a great bed.

  Best … mattress … ever.

  And I could smell him.

  So, obviously, even better.

  Sun was coming from behind his closed blinds.

  I wondered vaguely what time it was.

  I wondered not-so-vaguely how life could get so good so fast when it seemed so bad for so long.

  I wondered what was on my leg.

  Wait.

  What?

  I looked down the bed and saw a cat, hind paws to the bed, front paws to my leg. Small, slender body. Dense gray fur. Big ears. Gold at the edge of her (his?) dilated eyes.

  She (he?) studied me with curiosity and barely hidden feline distaste.

  Then s/he turned and pranced off the bed.

  Axl had a cat.

  Axl had a pretty, dainty, gray cat with an attitude.

  I would not peg him as a cat person.

  Dogs.

  Yes.

  Pretty, dainty, haughty gray cats?

  No.

  Semi-meeting Axl’s cat, and knowing he was a cat person made me feel like I felt when I first woke up.

  Comfy and snuggly.

  I sat up in Axl’s ridiculously comfortable bed.

  I’d become somewhat acquainted with his bedroom last night after he’d kissed me silly on his couch.

  Just kissing, no feeling up, no liberties taken (not, after he started kissing me, that those liberties wouldn’t be freely given).

  But lots …

  And lots …

  Of delicious kissing.

  Once he’d decided we were done with that (regrettably), he led me to his bedroom, gave me one of his tees to sleep in, then he took me to his bathroom, unearthed a toothbrush still in its wrapper and pulled out his toothpaste.

  He told me to “sleep well” and “call out if you need anything,” and then he bent in, kissed my neck, gave me a smile and left me.

  I’d been too dreamy from his kisses, and maybe too
sleepy from the late night, to take in much of his bedroom at that time.

  I took it in now.

  He decorated like me, without the shocks of color. White walls. Wooden blinds painted gray. Some lighter gray floor-length curtains at the sides. A bedspread of white with nuanced shades of gray checks.

  The outlier to the gray and white was the furniture.

  A modern, boxy black leather chair sat in the corner, with an ottoman and a chrome standing lamp that had a dome shade. The chair was covered in cargos, tees and my clothes.

  There was also a black six-drawer dresser. And the bed frame was black, as were the nightstands. The lamps on the nightstands were chrome.

  Though what caught my attention was that the only thing on his dresser was a shadow box, triangular black frame, holding a folded American flag.

  That didn’t bode well.

  I went to throw the covers off in order to get out of bed when I saw a piece of notepaper on the pillow beside me.

  Knowing it was from Axl, I snatched it up.

  Classily, but surprisingly, it was heavy stock and had a dark monogram at the top that told me his full initials were ASP.

  I wondered what his middle name was. At the same time, I thought I didn’t know anyone who had monogrammed notepaper. And on top of that, I saw he had small, precise handwriting.

  I thought all this, but I didn’t think on it much.

  I read the note.

  Hattie∼

   You’re even adorable when you sleep.

  Oh man.

  I loved he thought that.

  And I was glad, when he saw me sleeping, I wasn’t drooling or snoring or anything else equally mortifying.

  Make yourself at home. If you don’t know how to use it, the Nespresso machine should be self-explanatory. If you have trouble, call. Cisco dropped your bag this morning. It’s on the kitchen counter.

  Oh my God.

  My purse!

  I’d totally forgot, I left it in Brett’s car.

  Brett brought it around.

  He was so nice too.

  Everyone around me (outside my stalker, and, as usual, my dad) was just so nice.

  When you’re ready, let me know and me or one of the guys will be there to take you home.

  ∼Axl

  He ended it in a way that wasn’t nice.

  It was wonderful.

  PS: Best wake-up call I ever had, honey.

  Totally.

  Wonderful.

  Smiling to myself, I threw off the covers to get out of bed, keeping the note with me and searching for his cat.