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It feels good to be home. And before I know it, sleep pulls me under.

8

ty

This Just Got a Whole Lot More Complicated

I drift somewhere between dead asleep and halfway conscious, warm beneath the heavy quilt I’d apparently wrapped myself in from the back of the couch sometime during the night. The fire has burned down to glowing embers, and the wind whistles softly against the windows.

For the first time in a very long time, I slept hard and peacefully. It’s great sleep, and I don’t want to wake up, so I drift back off with my brain deciding to replay the best night I’ve had in my life. Vegas with Jolene.

She’s laughing again, and God, she laughed a lot that night. She’s chasing me down Fremont Street with that cactus, swatting my shoulder every time I tease her about losing at cards. I told her I was good at cards, and she didn’t believe me.

“You cheated,” she playfully teased.

“I did not.”

“You distracted me and made me lose.”

“I smiled.” Because I did do that. And I had fun doing it.

“You weaponized those dimples.”

“I was born with these. They’re natural,” I hedge.

She rolls her eyes and laughs so hard she has to grab my arm to steady herself. My chest actually hurts remembering it. Then something bumps my leg.

I ignore it. Probably Dream Jolene is trying to hit me again with her stuffed cactus.

Then another nudge. “Mmm...”

Another.

I grunt, pull the quilt over my shoulder, and bury myself deeper into the couch.

Good. The poking stops.

Then I hear a familiar woman’s voice clear her throat. “Ty Hollis?”

Huh? My dream Jolene knows my real name now. That’s new. Then I crack one eye open.

Holy shit.

There she is, dream Jolene standing over me in a red sweater, dark jeans tucked into brown boots, hair falling around her shoulders in messy waves.

She’s even prettier in my new dream. My brain decides this is definitely still a dream. I let my eyes close again. “You aren’t real. But I wish you were.”

I start to drift off to sleep again.

Then I hear her say, “I am real.”

Dream Jolene talks. Wow. Then I realize that was a real voice.

My eyes fly open, and I sit straight up so fast I nearly tumble onto the floor. “Holy shit. Jolene.”

She jumps a little too and backs up.

“Holy shit,” I repeat, frantically looking around the room, trying to figure out just where the hell I actually ended up last night. I know Tucker, and I had some wind-down whiskey, but...what the hell? Where the hell am I? How could I be so exhausted I ended up in someone else’s cabin? I vaguely remember being dropped off by one of the other hands named Robby and crashing on the couch.