Page 59 of In Somnis

The man in the dreams.

This Man.

Tessa shudders in his arms as he presses a slow kiss to the side of her neck, the bastard never breaking eye contact with me. Then he winks, and they disappear the way he came.

“Holy fucking shit.” I whip around, heart hammering, scanning the kitchen as if it might fall apart any second.

But Blondie is still humming, kneading, smiling, as if she didn’t notice that someone dark just entered her REM cycle and kidnapped her friend. I stare at her, my chest heaving and adrenaline screaming through my veins.

Is she okay?

I step up beside her, close enough that I can feel the warmth coming off her skin, and the first stupid, intrusive thought that crosses my mind is, God, she’s short.

“Lennon,” I say, testing her name out loud this time.

When she doesn’t react, I reach out and brush the streak of flour off her cheek with my thumb. The contact sends a strange, grounding jolt through me, and settles all the panicked feelings I just had. She feels more real than anything else I’ve ever felt in dreams before, and before I can overthink it, I tuck the loose strand of hair that’s fallen out of her bun back behind her ear.

She finally turns, and fuck. Her eyes are blue, not blotchy or rimmed red and not drowning in grief or panic. Just… blue.

“Who are you?” She scrunches up her nose at me, suspicious and adorable in equal measure.

A smile pulls at my mouth before I can shut it down. “I’m Ridge.”

Her frown joins the scrunched-up nose as she glances up at the ceiling, at the muffins still hovering mid-song, then back at me.

Finally, a flicker of awareness.

“What—”

“Question it,” I cut in.

I reach for her hand and lace my fingers through her dough-covered ones before she can pull away, and the second I do, the dream locks around me. The world anchors like I just plugged myself into something solid. Too solid?

My breath stutters, and I glance down at my free hand, needing to check. Six fingers.

Still dreaming.

I look back up at her and squeeze her hand when she glances at the floating muffins again. “Question it, Lennon.”

I can practically see the moment lucidity flickers into place as her gaze snaps back to me, eyes going wide.

“I’m dreaming.” The moment the words leave her mouth, the dream shudders violently.

“Ah, shit,” I curse, then lean in even closer. “Breathe. It’s okay. Yes, you’re dreaming… just breathe.”

Something slams into the side of my head.

“Ow! What the⁠—”

Another muffin nails my shoulder. Then another clips my ribs, and another, and another, the music cutting off mid-note as the choir dives straight at me, and I let go of her hand and stumble a few steps back.

“Are you kidding me?” I bark out, throwing my arms up to shield my head as the damn things hurt, frosting and crumbs exploding everywhere.

Lennon is staring at me in pure shock, hands half-raised like she doesn’t know whether to help or apologize.

“Sweetheart,” I growl out, ducking as another muffin clocks me in the ear. “I’d appreciate it if you get your shit together and stop throwing things at me!”

She gasps, then vanishes, gone so fast there’s not even time to register the empty space where she stood. The muffins lose all momentum at once, dropping straight down like someone cut the strings, coming crashing onto me, but before they can make contact, the world crashes first⁠—