Page 87 of Dreamscape Therapies

I nod because I can see it in her face. The horror. The guilt. The realization that she's been manipulated into hurting someone she thought she was protecting.

We stand, and Jay keeps hold of my hand.

"Thank you for talking to me instead of turning me into the police even though you had every right to," Dany says quietly. "I know that couldn't have been easy."

"It wasn't," I admit. "But you needed to know."

She nods, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks.

We leave her there on the whimsical patio, surrounded by crocheted cactus sweaters and wind chimes and the wreckage of Trent's lies.

Jay doesn't let go of my hand the entire walk back to the car.

"You okay?" he asks once we're inside.

"I just told a stranger about my sex life in graphic detail," I say. "So no. Not really."

He laughs, soft and sympathetic. "You did good. That took a lot of courage."

"I'm going to be mortified about this for the rest of my life."

"Probably," he agrees. "But at least now she knows the truth."

"Yeah." I lean my head back against the seat and let out a long breath.

For the first time in months, the thought of going to sleep doesn't fill me with dread.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Jay

“I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

Vincent blurts the words as I pull into the parking lot of his apartment. His hand is already on the door handle, but his whole body has gone still, as though he hadn't meant to say it out loud. He stares through the windshield, his face carefully blank while he waits for me to answer.

“Then come home with me,” I say easily.

His head turns toward me. “It’s just… I want to know what it’s like to be with you without worrying that the nightmares are coming back.”

His eyes are wide and honest, and there's something almost vulnerable about the way he looks at me. Like, despite everything we've said, some part of him is still afraid I might change my mind.

“Then come home with me,” I repeat.

“I know I’m a grown man who should be able to sleep on his own, but we’ve held back for so long, and I want you. Badly. More than I’ve ever wanted anything or anyone in my entire life.”

“THEN COME HOME WITH ME, JAGIYA,” I say, loud and slow enough that he finally seems to understand me.

His entire body sags with relief, and he lets out a self-conscious little laugh. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” I reach over and run a hand through his hair. “Do you need to grab anything from your place while we’re here?”

He nods and finally pulls the door open. “I’ll be right back.”

He's gone for less than five minutes before he's hurrying back toward the truck, slightly out of breath, cheeks flushed, and grinning like he just won the lottery. He tosses an enormous duffel bag into the back seat with a loud thump.

“Vincent. Jagiya. How long are you planning to stay at my place?”

He glances at the bag. “I might've panic packed.”