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four
Present
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IWAKE UP BREATHLESS. Hot. Shifting restlessly beneath my covers. And consumed by sensations of closeness, intimacy. The feel of Arthur’s stubble beneath my thumb.
It’s so real. Realer than anything I’ve experienced since I woke up in the hospital.
But it has to be a dream.
Right?
It couldn’t be a lost memory. I never would have touched Arthur that way. I never would have wanted to.
It was a dream.
I sit up in bed, still sucking down air in thick rasps. My skin doesn’t only feel hot. It feels tight. Too small for everything inside me. Stretched thin by a fullness, an intensity evoked by the idea of being with Arthur like that.
Compelled by an urge I don’t understand, I jump out of bed, sliding on my slippers and hurrying toward my bedroom door. It’s only been a couple of hours since I left Arthur in the library after finishing the hot chocolate we made. Now the clear memory of that scene is mingling with my dream. The lines are getting blurred. I have no idea what’s real and what’s not.
I need to know. Right now.
I head down the hall four doors until I reach Arthur’s bedroom. I don’t know why I know which room is his, but I do. I pound on the door.
“What?” The voice from inside is muffled at first, then clearer. “Come in. What’s wrong?”
I’ve started opening the door when it swings away from me. He opened it himself and is now standing in the doorway, staring at me urgently.
He must not sleep in the undershirt he was wearing earlier. Right now he’s got on nothing but the pajama pants. There’s hair on his chest. A strong, graceful line to his shoulders and biceps. He’s not totally flat or hard as a rock in the middle, but the slight softness near his waistline is more appealing to me than a perfect bodybuilder’s form would have been.
His physicality briefly distracts me. I forget why I’m here.
“Scarlett? What the hell is wrong? Talk to me.” He reaches out to take one of my shoulders, holding it in a firm grip.
“N-nothing. Sorry. I shouldn’t have woken you up. But I was... I don’t know. It was a dream. It felt so real, but I’m sure it was a dream.”
I don’t even remember any of the details anymore. Nothing except that sense of closeness with Arthur. His mouth. Warmth. Sweetness.
“What? What did you remember?” His fingers tighten in a quick squeeze.
“Nothing. I’m sorry.” I blink a few times, trying to clear my mind. The dark fog has set in again, swirling in front of images and feelings I momentarily had a grasp on. Nothing is left but the lingering effect on my body.
I’m too hot again. Restless and kind of achy. I lower my eyes. “I’m sorry. I was dreaming. It was vivid, and it upset me. But I think it was just a dream now that I’m awake enough to think it through.”
He’s gotten control of his urgency now. He drops his hand and takes a step back, saying mildly, “Why don’t you tell me what you dreamed, and maybe I can tell you if it was real or not.”
“I... I can’t even remember details anymore. I had them when I first woke up, but now they’re gone. I’m sure we were in the library?”
“You and me?” It sounds almost like he’s holding his breath.
“Yes. You were... You were there. We were... I don’t know... talking. Maybe arguing. Then I... I...” I touched him.
“What did you do?” It’s hard to tell because the room and hallway are so dark, but it looks like he might be as flushed as I am.
I touched him. I’m sure of it. Something about his mouth right now is evoking those same waves of feelings that were hitting me as I woke up earlier. But I’m convinced now it was a dream.
