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I still felt raw, still exposed, still vulnerable. But for the first time since I’d been having those nightmares, which happened almost twice a week—not because I was keeping track—I had forgotten the nightmare. And I wasn’t cold and restless, and I didn’t need to wish I could slip into darkness.
ChapterTwenty-Eight
Jonah
The following morning, I woke to the sound of water running and the feel of a dog’s cool nose nudging my hand. Opening my eyes, I rolled my head to the side and grinned at Honey. Her tail started wagging, her feet tapping on the floor as she wiggled and danced. There wasn’t anything much better than waking up to that kind of pure joy.
I rolled up and swung my feet to the floor. Honey tucked her head against the mattress between my knees, and I scratched behind her ears, chuckling as her entire body wagged madly.
The sound of the shower stopped, and I stood from the bed. As I walked into the bathroom, Alice turned. Her cheeks were pink and flushed from the steam, and her curls wet. She had a towel wrapped around her, and I had to fight the urge to cross over and tug it off.
“Good morning,” she said, her voice husky.
Honey had followed me in and began circling Alice’s legs.
“Morning. Honey woke me up.”
“She’s a friendly alarm, isn’t she?” Alice teased as she petted Honey.
“Definitely.”
“I’ll start some coffee,” she said, slipping past me before my impulses could get the best of me.
As I showered, my thoughts spun back to the night before. It wasn’t as if the memories were clear in retrospect. Instead, it was the sensations—sharp, intense, and evoking an intimacy even in recollection that I wanted to eschew from inside. And yet, I couldn’t.
I wanted to tell myself to be smart about this. To find a way to keep my hands off Alice while I was staying here indefinitely. That wish was a tiny voice in the wind. The force of my need for her was too powerful. While the sense of exposure and raw intimacy was intimidating, I craved that as well.
A few minutes later, I was dressed and in the kitchen. Honey was perched on the back of the couch in the living room and looking out the window. Alice glanced over as she was filling a mug with coffee. “Here,” she said, handing it over as I approached.
“This is mine?”
“Yes.” She already had another mug waiting and filled that one, adding, “There’s half and half in the fridge. I’m going by the store today. Why don’t you text me some things you want?”
“How about I go? I mean, I’m staying here, and you’re hosting me.”
Alice shrugged as she turned and rested her hips against the counter. I fetched the half and half, pouring a dollop in my mug and handing it to her. After a swallow of coffee, she replied, “It’s neither here nor there. I hate splitting hairs on things like groceries. We can take turns shopping. If you plan to have breakfast here, I’ve got some eggs and bagels, but that’s it. I usually stop by Firehouse Café on my way into the clinic.”
Just then, her house phone rang. We both swiveled to look at where it was mounted on the wall. It was one of those old phones, from the 80s probably. The sound of the ring was shrill in the kitchen.
Alice’s eyes were wide when she looked at me. “I forgot about that phone. I didn’t even know it was on. I haven’t been paying for it. So weird.”
It rang again. “Are you going to answer it?” I asked.
“I can’t imagine who even has this number,” she finally said.
The phone continued to ring. “I’ll get it if you want.”
She nodded. Crossing the kitchen, I lifted the phone. Honey leaped off the couch and trotted to my side, staring curiously at the phone.
“Hello?”
“Hi, I’m calling for Alice,” a man said.
I couldn’t say why, but a sense of trepidation slithered down my spine. I looked over at Alice, moving the phone away and mouthing, “It’s for you.”
She shook her head quickly, her damp curls swinging with the motion.
“I’m sorry, there’s no one here by that name,” I said into the receiver. “May I ask who’s calling?”
