The Dreamer

by E. J. Mellow

  This is going to be more difficult than I thought. Whatever this is.

  Jared gestures for me to come in, and my stomach turns into a pretzel shape, more than aware we didn’t do our usual kiss-on-the-lips hello. I glance around his apartment, feeling the most out of place I’ve ever felt here. Everything is steel and tile and dark man colors. I’ve always wondered if they had a Man Apartment and a Woman Apartment they let people rent here, because I can’t imagine any girls would want to live in a place like this. Have sex in, maybe, but not live.

  Why do I keep thinking of sex?!

  “Do you want anything to drink?” he asks like a good host. I follow him with my eyes as he strolls toward the kitchen area that is styled in an open floor plan.

  “Sure, I’ll have some water, please.” It’s like we hardly know each other. Each of us obviously has our walls up, which leads me to the conclusion that this is a breakup.

  Oh God, I’m going to throw up.

  I still haven’t moved from where I’m standing when Jared returns with bottled water. I thank him, extremely interested in removing the cap and taking a sip, not wanting to look up into his face and see what I fear is a look of indifference. Even though I told Becca I’d try to change his mind if he wanted to end things, at this moment I would definitely just nod my head and run toward the door. When did I become such a wuss?

  Finally growing a pair, I meet his gaze and am caught off guard to see him regarding me with a small smile.

  “What?”

  “You’re nervous,” he says without question.

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ve never seen you nervous before.” His smile grows.

  “Well, I’m glad someone is enjoying it,” I say dryly.

  He nods. “I am.”

  I eye the door, wondering if I should just leave it at that and make a run for it. He follows my gaze and chuckles. I’ve missed that sound, and my heart sinks further.

  “No, you’re not going to escape that easily.” He puts his hand behind my back and guides me to his living room. I feel like a thousand arrows just popped up and are pointing to the contact that’s finally going on between us, and with every blink of their neon bulbs, they cheer.

  Leading me to the couch, he sits on the ottoman directly in front of me, our knees a hair’s width away from touching. I wonder if this proximity is his tactic for letting me down gently. I’d much rather him rip it off like a Band-Aid so I can get on with my mourning.

  “How have you been?” he asks. I stop playing with the zipper on my purse and shoot him a glare.

  “Are you serious?”

  He looks confused.

  I let out a sigh. “If you asked me over to break up with me, I’d rather skip the formalities of talking about the weather and just get to the point.” I’m not sure why I’m so snippy, probably because I’ve never been very good at talking about feelings, more importantly my own.

  His brows pinch together, and then he does something that surprises me—he laughs.

  Uh…what?

  “I’ve missed you, Mols.” He leans forward, placing his hand on my knee.

  “Come again?”

  “I’ve missed you,” he says more seriously, holding my gaze.

  I glance from his hand on my knee back to his face, trying to understand what this means. “So…you didn’t ask me here to break up with me?”

  He shakes his head. “Why? Did you want me to?”

  “No,” I don’t hesitate to respond.

  “Good, because I have no intention of ever doing that.” He puts his other hand on my other knee, securing my legs between his. The word ever plays in circles in my mind as the days of tension that I felt between us begin to crumble. Sparked by the contact of his hands, a fluttering feeling of hope gathers in my chest. “I asked you here because, yes, there are some things we need to discuss since we last saw each other, but mainly because I’m sick of this thing between us being so…untitled.”

  “Untitled?”

  “Yes. I’ve done a lot of thinking these last couple of days, and I’ve come to the conclusion that I want to call you my girlfriend.” He looks me square in the eye, and I forget to exhale. “When people ask me about you and when I introduce you, I want to say, ‘This is my girlfriend.’ And I’d like you to call me your boyfriend. I want to be able to do things for you that only a boyfriend can do, and take claim in things only a boyfriend can take claim in. Like taking care of you when you’re sick,” he says wryly. “I want us to be each other’s.”

  Well, I obviously didn’t see that coming.

  “What do you think of that?” he asks, watching me patiently but with extreme confidence in his words.

  What do I think of that? I think I want to cry—and that’s just what I do. I cry.

  Pathetic, right?

  As I lay my head in my hands and let the unexpected tears pool out of my eyes, I know I must look insane. I must have looked insane the past three times we’ve hung out, but I can’t help the enormous amount of relief I feel at this moment. These past weeks have felt like I’ve been twisted and twisted until finally, right now, I unwind.

  The couch cushion dips with Jared’s weight as he sits next to me, pulling me to his chest. Breathing in his familiar cologne makes me cry harder. I’ve missed him more than I realized. I’ve missed how his presence makes me feel so secure and calm, like I can do no wrong. And if I do, he likes me despite of it.

  I need to get a grip.

  “I didn’t think that would make you sad,” he says into my hair.

  “No, no.” I push up from him and wipe my pitiful tears from my cheek. “I’m not sad—I’m happy.”

  “Happy?” He laughs lightly. “Then why are you crying?”

  “I’m just so relieved. I didn’t want to lose you, and I know the way I’ve been acting lately has been…odd. I just didn’t know what was going on with me. I’ve been dealing with a lot internally, and I’m just…I’m sorry.” The words spill quickly out of my mouth.

  “I know,” he says soothingly, holding me tight. “I know.”

  Even though he doesn’t really know, I have a feeling he knows enough about me to understand. To understand and accept whatever I’m dealing with and see me through it, for better or for worse. He’s too perfect and I know I don’t deserve him, but I hold on tight anyway. In this moment, the space I was making for him in my heart expands.

  “It was so hard not talking to you these past few days,” he whispers softly into my hair.

  I lift my head from his shoulder and face him. It was so hard for me too, but I don’t admit this; instead, I’m distracted by his gaze dropping to my lips. When he looks back up, his eyes are dark and filled with desire. I would never have thought I’d be in his arms again, friggin’ crying, but in his arms nonetheless. I become very aware of their strength and the hardness of his chest against my side. Before I think any more about any of this, I bring his lips to mine and let go.

  Starved—that’s the only way I can describe how Jared is kissing me. Like he’s starving and I’m his favorite meal. He stands with me still wrapped in his arms and walks to another room. Our lips only part when he gently lays me on his bed and rips off my jacket. I frantically tug off his shirt with the same sense of desperation. He’s nothing but bare chest and jeans hovering above me before his lips slam back to mine, and I groan in pleasure.

  With the scent of his skin mixing with his cologne, it takes all of my strength not to lick him. His hand moves up my thigh, hitching up my dress and cupping my bottom. I move my hips into him even more and gasp. God, how I missed this man. As our lips continue to move together, I feel his hands tugging my underwear down my legs, and I help by kicking them off. He stands, and I frown at the sudden void of his body.

  He chuckles at my reaction and doesn’t take his heated eyes from mine as he unzips his jeans, taking them off. My body practically croons with desire seeing him standing there, bare as the day he was born, the tan skin covering his defined
chest calling out to be touched. He leans back over, rubbing his hand from my calf up to my thigh as he teasingly pulls at the bunched-up material of my dress. “I like this dress,” he says darkly with a grin.

  “Do you?” I respond with an air of innocence.

  He nods slowly. “We’re keeping this on.”

  “Whatever my boyfriend wants,” I tease, and if the strength of words could be measured, mine would be astronomical given the reaction this elicits from Jared.

  From that moment on, there’s nothing but sounds and sensations and the euphoric pounding of each of our hearts.

  —∞—

  I watch the slow descent of light from Jared’s floor-to-ceiling windows. My eyelids want to follow the movement of the dimming sky, but I know I can’t let them—I still haven’t talked to him about where I’ll be going for the next two days. Remembering what I’ll be doing brings back all the nervous tension that was removed by the distraction of the man lying next to me.

  It’s like I’m being pulled in two different directions. One part wants to stay right here in Jared’s arms and refuse to accept what I know is inevitable, and the other part is swimming like a fish to a baited hook, straight toward this giant change that’s about to take place in my life. And I’m welcoming it forward with excitement.

  I take a deep breath, preparing myself to lie once again to someone I care about. Jared is soothingly playing with a strand of my hair and has his eyes closed. The corner of his mouth tips up, knowing I’m watching.

  “Yes?”

  “How did you know I wanted to say something?”

  He doesn’t open his eyes but keeps smiling. “Why else would you be creepily watching me?”

  I lightly smack his chest. “I’m not creepily doing anything.”

  He peeks at me, taking in my wide-eyed, offended expression. “Yup, creepy.” He closes his eyes again.

  “You ass!” I shove him, and with a laugh he quickly flips me on my back, nuzzling his face into my neck. His scruff tickles my skin and I squirm, pleading for him to stop. Chuckling, he eases off me.

  “Did I tell you that I’ve missed you?”

  “I think you might have mentioned that.”

  “So what have you been doing these past couple of days?” He runs his fingers along my collarbone.

  “Being pathetic.”

  He grins against my shoulder and moves his face above mine. “Me too,” he says and kisses me.

  My chest is heavy with how happy he can make me, and I resist the urge to frown as I think about how I’ll have to leave soon. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I bring him in again for a more passionate kiss, one that he readily returns. After a little more delicious procrastinating, I lightly push my body away from his. He still hasn’t removed that adorable grin from his face.

  “I don’t want you to be mad, but I made plans to go home tonight before I knew all this was going to happen between us.”

  There goes the smile. Jared’s brows move together, and he props his head on his hand.

  “Home? Why?”

  I repeat what I said to Becca about some R & R with the ’rents and getting some proper rest since the accident. He seems to understand this logic but still doesn’t look too thrilled.

  “How long will you be gone?”

  “I’ll be back Tuesday morning.”

  “That long?” He pouts, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me closer. I laugh.

  “Jared, it’s only two days.”

  “One day would be too many days.” He slides his hand up my stomach. “You just officially became my girlfriend. I wanted to start doing those things only a boyfriend can do,” he whispers into my ear as he kisses the soft spot right underneath.

  “And what would those things be?” I ask breathlessly.

  He places his lips to mine and coaxes them open, massaging my tongue with his own. His hand that was gently grazing my skin starts to move south. I breathe heavier with anticipation.

  “Let me give you a little preview,” he murmurs as his fingers travel lower and lower. “So you’ll want to come back for the main feature.”

  I gasp as he finds what he’s looking for, and as he begins to expertly send my mind spinning, I know without a doubt I’ll be back for the feature and all the sequels.

  —∞—

  Standing by Jared’s front door, somewhat put back together, I brush my hands against his chest.

  “I can’t believe you managed to escape my bed.”

  “I can’t miss my train.” I lean up and give him a peck. I’ve started to convince myself that what I’m about to do is technically going out of town, so I’m not feeling as bad for lying. As bad are the key words.

  “I think you can.” He gives me a more thorough kiss good-bye, and I realize in this moment that this might be a much-bigger good-bye than I originally thought. Just like my good-bye to Becca.

  This instantly throws me into a frenzy to get as much of Jared as possible, and I push into his body and fist my hands into his hair. He immediately responds by pinning me against his front door. Our lips move together, and I moan against his mouth as he moves one hand to grab my backside and squeeze. I’m so thankful that I spent most of the day talking and laughing with Jared—as well as not talking and definitely not laughing. This is exactly how I want to remember us together, exactly what I want to be excited to come home to, to hold on to. No matter what I experience in the coming days, I want to always be the same Molly that’s in Jared’s arms right now, happy and hopeful.

  Jared is the first to detangle us from one another. He brushes my hair behind my ear, and his eyes twinkle with an emotion that I don’t think I’m quite ready to admit to seeing.

  “I’ll see you soon?” he asks softly.

  I nod. “I’ll see you soon.”

  — 30 —

  THE ENTRANCE TO the Village Portal Bookstore is unlit, and the dream catchers hang with an eerie abandonment in the dark windows. I wonder if I’m supposed to knock. The whole place definitely appears closed. I know this is the right location, but the scrap of paper didn’t say anything else about actually getting inside.

  I glance up and down the street a little awkwardly, given that I’m practically in my pajamas on a Saturday night in the West Village. Even on this random back street, there are plenty of people dressed up for a night out, probably noticing me and deciding that I’m scoping out a stoop to sleep on. I didn’t exactly know what to wear to this…thing, but the notion of sleeping for two days had me going in the direction of something comfortable.

  “Hope I haven’t kept you waiting,” a deep, familiar voice says from behind me.

  I turn to see Rae standing under a streetlamp. The light illuminates his long blond locks and casts a dramatic shadow over his dark features. He’s wearing the same black shirt and jeans I saw him in the first night we met and again when we bumped into each other in the bookstore. I wonder if these are his version of traveling clothes.

  “No, just long enough to get the judgmental eye from some girls who probably thought I was searching for one of my three cats.”

  Rae laughs deeply and moves his large frame from the spotlight. “Yeah, I can see why they might have come to that conclusion. What are you wearing?” He glances at my outfit.

  “My pajamas,” I say like he should already know this. I look down at my gray sweatpants and hoodie. Is it really that bad?

  “But why?”

  I furrow my brows. “Um, because…” I glance around to see if anyone else is nearby and lower my voice as I continue. “Because I’m about to go to sleep for two days. What was I suppose to wear, a dress to go clubbing?”

  He laughs again, like that’s the funniest thing he’s ever heard. I can bet him a thousand bucks that it’s not. He places an arm around my shoulder. “Come on—I’ve got stuff to show you.”

  He pulls keys from his pocket and lets himself in.

  “So…do you know the owner or something?” I ask as I follow Rae through
the empty store, which is looking even creepier with the lights turned off.

  “Something like that.”

  I want to ask him what that means, but I bump into a low display table and curse as I grab the books that spilled over. “How can you see where you’re going in here?” I ask in a whisper. Even though the shop’s closed, and Rae’s obviously allowed in here since he has keys, I still feel like we are breaking and entering.

  “Oh, sorry.” Rae gently grabs my arm. “I can see a little better in the dark than you can.” He walks us toward the back of the store.

  “What do you mean? Like you have night vision?” I have to remember that these people are not normal…well…people.

  “Not so much night vision as advanced eyesight in the dark.” I fail to see the difference. “Remember what Elena said about how the Navitas gives us certain qualities that humans don’t have?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, I guess that’s one of them. We can’t see if there’s absolutely no light source—then we’re just as blind as you—but as long as there’s some light that can be used, we can see pretty well at night.”

  Interesting. It makes sense for the Nocturna to have this power, since they are always in the dark, but it seems like an added bonus for the Vigil, who can travel in the daylight.

  Rae stops in front of a doorway that is blocked by a gaudy purple velvet curtain. Parting one side, he gestures for me to walk through. The space beyond is a typical store backroom. There’s a ratty couch in the corner and used coffee mugs littering a stain-covered table. There are hooks for coats, and used books stacked everywhere on the floor and against walls. There are two more doors in the room, and if I had to guess, they would be for a bathroom and a closet.

  Rae walks to the door on the far right, and I follow, my nerves resurfacing. Turning the knob and flipping a switch, he illuminates the interior. I peer in and am disappointed to find a regular closet—a dirty one at that. Rae watches my reaction with a hidden smile. He walks forward and steps over boxes, beckoning me to follow. I step into the closet that turns out to be decently sized, but because Rae is practically a giant, it feels smaller than a doghouse.