“What do you think happened?” I ask him, clutching the front of his shirt in case it was a serial killer who cut the lights and the music and is about to have his way with us.
Nathan lets out a grumpy sigh and slowly lowers me to the ground. Through his teeth, he says, “Seems like the house blew a fuse.”
What terrible timing. It feels like someone tossed us into freezing cold water. Our magical moment is over.
In the next moment, we hear Jamal’s voice boom through the house. Something about it sounds oddly monotone, robotic, and almost…rehearsed. “Oh no. Looks like we blew a fuse! I guess we’ll have to light some candles. Nathan, you around here? Need a candle, buddy?”
Nathan mutters something under his breath, and it sounds oddly like, “Thunder-seeking jackass.”
He’s still holding me. His fingers are still clamped onto me like the prongs of a bear trap. There’s a desperation in his hold that matches the one in my heart. I want to ask him a million and two questions. I want to bombard him with declarations. But my mouth won’t open and reality sinks back in around us.
My soul is shaking.
I know a whole new side of Nathan now, and I don’t ever want to go back to what we were.
“Wake up, sleeping beauty!”
I crack open my eyes to Bree hovering over the side of my bed. Her curls are tied up in a high ponytail and draping over the side of her face. The apples of her cheeks are splotched with pink, and I wonder if I’m still dreaming. I have to be. Why would Bree be in my room right now? The sun isn’t out. She’s a figment of my imagination.
I stare at her. What’s Dream Bree going to do?
She smiles, and I mirror her. If she raises her hand, I’ll raise mine too. Her soft brows crinkle together, and so do my bushier ones. This makes her laugh. “You’re being weird. Come on, get up! It’s Tuesday.”
I really hope this dream ends with us not going on a run. I glance at the clock on my bedside table and it says 5:00 AM. Now I know I’m still asleep. Bree is always trying to get me to sleep in, so she wouldn’t wake me up before 5:30.
It’s best if I just settle in and see what happens. I put my arms behind my head and watch her as she crosses my room to paw through my chest of drawers. She selects a black Nike t-shirt and grey athletic shorts. A balled-up pair of socks hits me in the face. I don’t flinch. Bree moves to stand at the foot of my bed, her eyes roaming over me. All that’s showing is my chest and abdomen, but Dream Bree likes what she sees. The pink splotches turn to red apples. Variety: Delicious. She’s wearing my favorite pair of short turquoise running shorts and a black tank top, neon yellow sports bra underneath. She puts her hands on her fantastic curvy hips.
I love dreaming. Because in here, there are no boundaries. No friend zones. Just me and Bree as we should be.
“You look like someone should be fanning you and feeding you grapes. What are you waiting for?” she asks curiously.
“Come around here and find out.” I’m sexy in my dreams.
Those brown eyes widen, but she complies. Her sneakers squeak a little with every step. Then she’s standing beside me, and I reach out and take her hand. Warm skin.
Oh no.
THAT’S REAL SKIN, PEOPLE!
This is not Dream Bree. This is real-life, actual-consequences-if-I-pull-her-under-the-covers-with-me Bree. And I need to quickly backtrack.
I look up and see her swallow her nerves. I feel her hand trembling in mine. We might have kissed the other night, but this is different. This is alone. In my room. I have no excuses here for talking dirty or holding her hand—and what I had planned just now is definitely not on the romance cheat sheet.
I tug her down a little so her shoulders hunch toward me, and then I pretend to flick something off. “I thought you had a spider on you. It was a piece of lint.”