Page 65 of Somnium

“I mean, I’ve had worse,” she teased.

Elias’s grin widened, and he tipped his head to the fridge behind her. “I snagged a bottle of white for you. I’ll get this dished up if you want to pour yourself a glass.”

Cadi busied herself with opening the bottle, then selected a swirling crystal wine glass from behind the bar while she shamelessly checked him out from across the room. The way he moved through his space, confident and smooth as he arranged their dinner, struck her as adorably domestic. Crossing to the table, she lowered herself onto the chair in front of the steaming bowl of risotto, and wondered if it was possible to be physically attracted to someone’s culinary skills.

As they ate, she caught herself wondering if she would ever get used to how normal everything felt with him, how easy it was to relax into his presence. There was no analyzing her words, no overthinking the shifts in his posture. It was just … them.

And that was absolutely fucking terrifying.

In her experience, nothing this good, this easy, ever stayed in her life for very long. It was only a matter of time. He would figure out that when everything was stripped away, she was just damaged. Afraid. Alone. And whatever she may have to offer wouldn’t be enough to make up for that.

She hadn’t even realized she had gone quiet until Elias’s hand wrapped around hers, pulling her gaze from the now-empty bowl in front of her.

“What’s going on?” he asked, concern shadowing his face.

Cadi smiled softly and squeezed his hand in return. “It’s nothing,” she said, “I’m just tired.”

She moved to stand but his grip tightened, stopping her before she could step away. Before she could disappear.

“Cadi …” There was that damn look again. Like he could see that she was still guarding something, even if he didn’t know what it was. “You don’t have to hide with me. Remember?”

How could she forget? No, remembering his words wasn’t the issue. They were burned into her mind, along with every moment since the day he’d said them. The problem was getting her heart to believe that if she did stop hiding, he would stay. That she wouldn’t have to live with the memories of what she’d almost had if only she’d been enough. That this wouldn’t end up like every other time she’d risked letting someone in.

Her thumb traced against his hand, the smile still glued to her face even though she knew he could see straight through it. She couldn’t hide from him if she wanted to.

“I know,” she whispered.

She slid her fingers from his, and this time, he let her go.

The ominous sound of trembling glass reverberated over the rush of water as Cadi worked her way through their dishes, a new sense of unease overshadowing her thoughts as she eyed the concerning amount of glass that made up the apartment’s walls.

“These windows are reinforced, right?” she asked.

The worry on Elias’s face softened, and he let out a low chuckle as he stood from the table. He crossed the room to join her in the kitchen and slide a reassuring arm around her waist.

“Yes,” he promised as he pulled her close. “Everything is reinforced and built to withstand storms much nastier than this one. The only thing we really need to worry about is the pow⁠—”

The lights around them flickered once before they cut out completely, plunging the apartment into near total darkness. Elias’s sigh brushed against her temple.

“Is the power going out.”

19

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CADI

Cadi reached forward to switch off the water, which had slowed to a pathetic trickle over her hands. Elias shifted behind her, and somewhere to her right she heard a drawer open. She blinked when a bright, focused light appeared at the end of his phone, guiding his search through the junk drawer until at last he pulled out two boxes of kitchen matches.

“Be right back,” he said, slipping behind her and disappearing into the darkness of his office. Cadi felt along the counter for the soft kitchen towel next to the sink, adrenaline seeping into her muscles at the feeling of disorientation from being plunged into darkness. She dried her hands, her shoulders beginning to loosen as her eyes adjusted to the dim light from outside that slowly cut the murk as it filtered through the tinted panes.

A sharp crack cut the silence, followed by low hiss, and the apartment was momentarily illuminated by the light of a match flaring to life as Elias lit a tall pillar candle before setting it carefully on the table next to the front door. In the flickering light, she watched him reach back into a cardboard box and pull out two more candles.

“You just happen to have a box of jumbo-sized candles?” she asked.

Elias’s laugh sounded from somewhere in the dark. “No, I got these last week. I was worried this might happen, so I wanted to be prepared.”

Cadi smirked at the image of Elias standing in line at a craft store of all places, empty candle shelves left in his wake, grunting at anyone who dared to comment.