Page 68 of Dreamscape Therapies

He glances over his shoulder with an easy smile. "You planning on catching up?"

"I'm admiring the scenery!" I call back.

His eyes narrow suspiciously when I give him my dirtiest smile and a wink, and the blush that travels up his neck to his ears makes me grin. He turns back around quickly, pretending he didn't notice, and I quicken my pace until I'm beside him, our feet crunching pleasantly through the leaves.

This is nice. There are no balls of yarn, no creepy weavers, and no feeling like I'm about to be pulled apart from the inside out. It's just Jay and me, walking through the forest with the sunlight filtering through the trees. The only problem is that being alone with him like this is making it increasingly difficult to remember that I'm supposed to behave myself.

"I'm not seeing any yarn," I say, glancing around.

"Maybe confronting her last time scared her off?"

"I doubt I'm that lucky."

We continue down the winding mountain path in comfortable silence, surrounded by birdsong and the gentle gurgle of a creek somewhere nearby. It's impossibly peaceful, which means I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop. Or the other ball of yarn to unravel. Whatever.

"How are you feeling?" Jay asks eventually, his tone light and breezy.

"Honestly?" When he nods, I look around at the peaceful forest before admitting, "This is the most relaxing dream I've had in recent memory. I'm a little terrified that the weaver is just lulling me into a false sense of security, waiting to spring the trap when I'm at my most vulnerable. Is that dramatic?"

"Nope," he says, popping the 'p' with a pucker of his plump lips. "I think that's a totally normal reaction to being terrorized for months on end."

The trail eventually opens into a small meadow blanketed with wildflowers, and Jay wanders toward the middle of it, turning slowly in a circle with his arms spread wide. His expression is so open and awed that I can't help smiling.

"This is so beautiful," he murmurs.

"Yeah," I say, staring at him instead of the flowers.

He doesn't seem to notice as he kneels beside a patch of tiny blue flowers and runs his fingers gently over the delicate petals. "I don't think these exist in the outside world. You totally invented a new flower." He leans closer, smiling as he takes in the little blooms, and I crouch beside him, brushing my shoulder against his. He doesn't move away. If anything, he leans into me a little, and the small gesture sends a warm rush through my chest.

"You know," I say quietly, "I like this version of you."

"This version?" His eyebrows lift in question.

"Yeah. The one that isn't trying to psychoanalyze everything that's happening around you. You're just living in the moment and enjoying yourself. It's nice."

His smile softens. "I like this version of you, too."

"Yeah?"

"Mmm." He nods, gently nudging my shoulder. "You're relaxed and smiling. I don't think you realize how stiff you usually are. It's nice to see you letting down your walls a little."

"I guess you can't turn your therapist brain completely off after all," I joke, nudging him back.

Our laughter fades, but neither of us looks away. Our eyes meet, and something shifts between us, changing the air from playful to something warmer and more intense. If he were an omega or an alpha, he would probably be able to smell the pheromones surging through my body right now, because every part of me wants him. His warm eyes, his bright smile, his loving soul—everything about him has somehow become something I crave, and I'm beginning to realize just how completely screwed I am.

"Come on," I finally say, standing and holding my hand out to him.

He takes it, a faint look of confusion crossing his face as I pull him to his feet.

The faint sound of rushing water drifts through the meadow, coming from somewhere beyond the trees, so we follow it until the forest opens onto a crystal-clear creek cascading over smooth rocks. Jay crouches beside it and splashes the cool water onto his face before immediately jerking back.

"Fuck! That's freezing!"

I grin at his wide, shocked eyes. "Need some help warming up?" I ask, waggling my eyebrows mischievously.

He doesn't laugh.

Instead, he stands and wipes the water from his hands onto his jeans, and something shifts between us again. I find myself stepping closer without really deciding to, but Jay doesn't step back. His fingers brush against mine, tentative and questioning, and when he looks down at our hands, he slowly intertwines our fingers.