My chest squeezed as my heart pumped to keep up.
My breath came faster, drawing less oxygen into my lungs.
The sound of scraping intruded on the smooth speed.
I slowed my oar and the scraping became louder. Even louder than the labored wispy breaths on the cold air. The water tilted.
Water didn’t tilt.
As the water rushed into the scull, I gasped and suddenly I was pushing myself off the mattress in a room I didn’t recognize. The scraping noise was followed by a happily barking dog.
I collapsed onto my face into my pillow.
The house in New York.
The mutt who wouldn’t go away.
I turned my head, squinting at the empty space beside me. She was gone. Annoyed at the quick rush of disappointment, I rolled onto my back had to swallow down a groan. My ankle definitely wasn’t happy.
Fair, since neither was I.
Fuck.
I struggled out of the covers, my neck and chest slick with sweat from the dreams. It faded into the ether as most dreams did, but the weight of it stayed squarely on my chest. It was never really gone.
Losing a friendship that lasted longer than any other relationship in my life would do that.
I shoved the blankets and sheets away. Her honey scent drifted up and tightened my chest—and lower. Christ. I didn’t need to think about her now.
It was just biology. I’d tried losing myself in sex—both meaningless and more serious. Both had been a bad idea. Anger lived so close to the surface inside of me, I couldn’t find the softness a partner deserved.
Being touch-starved for six months was just getting to me that was all.
I gingerly slipped off the bed, wincing at my throbbing ankle. It was still tender, but already better than the day before. I hobbled to the window. The sun was higher in the sky than I expected.
How the hell long had I been out?
I fumbled my way to the dresser and opened it to find my phone. I flicked away the handful of messages from Monte and my thumb paused on the one from Bastian.
The one friend I still had.
I left it unread, but caught the gist from the preview. He was checking on me. I glanced at the time and cursed. How the hell was it after noon?
I hadn’t slept ten hours in…months.
I tossed the phone back into the drawer and shut it. The scraping sound must have been the plows coming through. After I took care of my bladder, I slowly limped my way into the hall.
The sound of someone in my office froze me in my tracks.
I stalked down the hall, my ankle screaming, but I just used the pain.
My notebook was beside my laptop, but it wasn’t where I’d left it.
Had she touched it?
I scanned the room, then caught a flash of blond hair behind my desk.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
