Aven's Dream (17 page)

Closing my eyes, I sighed, inhaling the perfect scent of his cologne. My lips parted, and I felt a sharp wave of unfamiliar pleasure sweep through me as his hand traced my jaw, down the side of my neck. His touch made every nerve ending in my body tingle, and when his lips dropped to my neck, I leaned into him, shivering. He pulled back slightly, visibly shaking.

Then, before I could comprehend what was happening, he lowered me to my bed as the room spun around me. Unlike a few moments before, his eyes were practically glowing blue, and he looked even more beautiful than before—but with a look of pure terror distorting his flawless features.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered.

I turned my head on my pillow, feeling the room spin as I watched him walk away from me. The light turned off, and I heard my door shutting quietly. Reaching up in the darkness, I touched my lips. They felt puffy, almost bruised, and my skin still buzzed with electricity.

My first kiss
, I thought as I drifted into the blackness of sleep.

Part II: Anagnorisis

M
y eyes snapped open, and I looked around. It must have been morning, but my room was unnaturally dark. The wind howled menacingly outside my window, like an intruder trying to get in, and despite a dreamless, black sleep, I felt destroyed. Trying to sit up, I groaned when my head throbbed. Memories of the night before were jumbled. Dinner—with Will. His strange mood the past couple of days. Then it all came flooding back. Will’s touch. The kiss. The way he had practically run from my room. A knock on my door made me jump.

“Aven?” my dad called before slowly opening the door.

Sitting up, I gave him a weak smile.

“Morning,” I mumbled. “It’s early. Or it feels like it.”

“I came in to check on you after your friend left, and you were already fast asleep. I couldn’t even wake you for a slice of cake,” he said, studying me.

Looking down, I noticed that I was still fully dressed, minus my shoes, which my dad must have slipped off when he tucked my quilt over me.

“I don’t know what it was,” I said, still groggy. “I just felt awful. I hope it’s not the flu.”

“Yeah, kiddo. You don’t look too good,” he said studying me. “I guess it’s a good thing you went to bed early.”

“What time are you going to the airport?” I croaked, my voice sounding unfamiliar and scratchy to my ears.

“I was about to leave, but I can cancel if you need me to stay.”

“No, that’s silly. It’s probably just a twenty-four-hour thing.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, there’s some cold medicine on the counter in the bathroom, and I printed out a copy of my itinerary with the phone number at the hotel. Are you sure you don’t have a friend who could let you stay over for a night?”

He looked worried, and it made me feel bad, like I was holding him back. I put on the best smile I could.

“I’ll be fine. Besides, I can’t leave Darcy alone,” I reminded him.

He nodded and gave me one last look of parental concern before patting me on the head.

“Well, I told Mrs. Hendrix I was leaving, and I found Sean’s number and talked to his mom last night.

“You did?”

“She said to call if you needed anything.”

He set down a glass of water on my nightstand and rested his hand on my forehead as though he could discern my wellbeing entirely from my temperature. Apparently satisfied I wasn’t feverish, he leaned over and hugged me awkwardly for a moment.

“I’ll have my phone with me during the conference, so call if you need anything.”

“Have a good time. And stop worrying about me,” I said with a lopsided smile.

“All right. See you in a couple of days.”

He got up and started moving to the door.

“Dad, I love you,” I said, feeling oddly emotional.

He smiled.

“I’ll call you tomorrow. I’m going to put Darcy in with you. I just fed him and let him out.”

He whistled, and Darcy padded into the room, settling at the foot of the bed with a huff. I watched as my dad walked off. Then I dropped back into bed and stared at the ceiling. My limbs felt like lead weights, and my eyelids were like sandpaper. When I finally managed to sit up, my head pounded in protest. I swung my feet over the edge of the bed. Then, as I stood up, the oddest feeling gripped me. Like the cold hand of eternity stretching out into nothingness. Shaking my head at my tendency toward the melodramatic, I willed my body toward the bathroom.

I heard the front door close behind my dad as I walked into the bathroom. Stripping out of my clothes, I turned on the shower and waited for the water to heat to a scalding temperature. I stepped into the shower and stayed under the spray, letting the water rush over me until I started feeling more human. When I finally got out, I caught sight of myself. I looked paler than usual, which just made my hair look even redder.

After towel-drying my hair, I went back to my room and changed into sweats before opening the blinds. In a daze, I watched the rain pummel the glass for several minutes before realizing that I was starving. Grabbing my phone, I walked slowly downstairs to the kitchen, where I grabbed a bowl of cereal and some orange juice. While I crunched on my cereal, I pecked out a text that I wasn’t feeling good to the number Lizzie had given me the day before. She texted a sad face and said she and Sean were probably going to postpone their date until after the storm. That, she said, or she would end up looking like a drowned cat. I texted back that I owed her a rain check, literally.

Finishing my cereal and juice, I headed back upstairs and reached for the Hemingway on my nightstand as I curled back into bed. It seemed like the perfect day to spend in bed getting through the rest of
For Whom the Bell Tolls
. I made it all the way to the last ten pages of the novel before my eyes welled up, tears running freely as I read the words. Dropping the book to the floor, I pressed my face into my pillow and sobbed. Clutching my breastbone, I tried to will away the pain. I knew it was stupid to be sobbing over the ending in a book, but I couldn’t help it. It was like my emotions had gone haywire, and suddenly I was exhausted again. Turning off the lamp on my nightstand, I closed my eyes.

The woods closed in around me as I called out, my voice echoing before I was met with an unsettling silence. I clawed my way through the thickening brush, feeling the thorns cut at my hands. Up ahead, I saw a clearing and rushed forward. When I broke through the trees, I saw a figure at the far end of the space. He was facing away from me as I hurried toward him. He turned in the gloom and beckoned to me. I stopped as he stared at me with dead eyes. Then he smiled. I opened my mouth to scream, but no sound came as he took a step toward me.

I woke with a start, the adrenaline still coursing painfully through my veins. It was dark again, and I stiffened in surprise when I felt a pair of arms wrap around me. Turning and reaching out blindly, I touched someone’s face. As I opened my mouth to scream, the arms wrapped tighter around me.

“Aven, shhh,” a voice whispered in the dark.

“
Will
?” I gasped.

I was suddenly fully alert, my heart racing. One arm released me briefly, and the light on my nightstand clicked on. I blinked and looked around in a daze. I was in bed in the sweats I had put on after my shower. Turning again, I found myself leaning against Will, whose other arm still held me gently. I took a shaky breath in.
I’m still dreaming
, I told myself.

“Okay. If this
isn’t
a dream, then what the
hell
are you doing in my room?” I demanded unsteadily.

I looked up at the apparition that held me, the perfection of his face alarming in its nearness. My hallucination looked at me curiously and then smiled. When I struggled to sit up, he loosened his grip so that I could face him.

“Are you saying that you dream of me?” he asked, his eyes gleaming.

Panic burst through me as I realized this was real—and my dad was gone.

“What the
hell
are you doing in my house?” I gasped again.

Will reached out and moved a strand of hair from my face, and I shrank back.

“I apologize. I was worried about you, and I wanted to make sure you were safe.” He paused, looking sheepish. “I didn’t think you would wake up,” he added dryly.

“And that makes it okay to come into my house in the middle of the night? You are seriously
insane
! How did you get in?”

Will didn’t answer, and I thought about the sticky kitchen door.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said apologetically.

“You broke into my house!”

“To be fair, I don’t think I’ve broken anything,” he answered, sounding amused.

Shivering, I looked over at the window and then back at Will. This house didn’t have a ledge or convenient trellis for someone to climb up to the second floor.

“Wait. Did you come in the
window
? What are you? An escaped circus performer?”

He shrugged.

“This isn’t funny!” I growled. “I should be terrified of you.”

But even as I said this, I realized that one of my hands was still resting in his. Looking down at our hands, I shivered at the strange energy coursing between us, wondering if he could feel it, or if it was all in my head.

“Are you? Terrified?” he asked, his expression suddenly apprehensive.

I thought about it. I really should have been afraid of him after the past couple of days. But I wasn’t. I was afraid of what he made me feel.

“Not as scared as I
should
be,” I admitted.

Releasing me, Will stood up and walked over to my desk chair and sat down.

“You should get some sleep.”

I stared at him in disbelief.

“You expect me to
sleep
with you here?” I asked.

“I’m not leaving you alone.”

His tone was firm.

“I think I’ll decide whether I want a freaking psychotically moody stranger in my house while I sleep!”

“Would you prefer it were someone else?” he asked.

I shivered at his implication, thinking of the man from Mr. Blake’s classroom.

“I would prefer that
nobody
break into my house in the middle of the damn night!”

“Aven, please,” he said seriously. “I can’t leave you unprotected. You don’t understand the danger you’re in because of me.”

“And this week? Last night? You were acting like a crazy psycho … because why?” I asked, my cheeks reddening.

Will stood again and walked over to me. Putting his hand beneath my chin, he tilted my head until I was forced to look into his eyes.

“I wasn’t as cautious as I should have been, perhaps because I hadn’t anticipated how much energy it would take to …” He stopped, frowning. “Aven, I’m sorry. I wanted to keep you safe. I wanted to be with you—perhaps more than I should have—but couldn’t trust myself. I couldn’t risk …”

“What?” I asked, trying to keep in check the urge to interrogate him when he actually seemed like he was about to tell me something critical.

I had never seen Will tongue-tied before, and it was unnerving—like seeing a parent cry. His expression was tortured as he studied me, and suddenly I wanted to reach out and comfort him. Yes, I wanted to comfort the person who had come into my house in the middle of the night—when what I should have been doing was calling the cops. But his tone was too sincere for me to question his motives. Will reached up and touched my cheek in a way that made it impossible to concentrate, despite the questions swimming in my head. Then I remembered something that made me sit up straight.

“Darcy!”

“I fed him, and he’s asleep at the foot of the bed,” Will said, laughing softly at my confusion.

“But he didn’t bark,” I whispered.

I was suddenly overwhelmed by exhaustion, and Will’s response was barely audible as I drifted to sleep.

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” he whispered.

“
How are you feeling?
”

My eyes flew open, and sitting up, I scanned my surroundings, squinting in the dim light. I could tell it was morning outside, but very little light—even less than the day before—filtered through the blinds as a steady rain beat down on the rooftop, joined by the howling wind, which rattled the windows every few seconds. My eyes focused on Will, who was sitting perfectly still at my computer, the screen glowing in the low light of the room. My heart skipped. Holy—
last night wasn’t a dream
! Will was here, flesh and blood. In my room.

“You’re really here,” I said, sounding happier about that fact than I should have.

“I’m here, yes,” Will responded. “Wait here.”

Will disappeared from the room, and I leaned over the edge of the bed and retrieved a small mirror from my backpack, groaning in despair when I saw my reflection. My hair was wild, and I was just beginning to get some color back into my cheeks after whatever had ravaged me the day before. Before I could do anything about my hair, Will reappeared with a bowl of cereal and a glass of orange juice. I stared at him as he set the items on my nightstand and then walked back over to my desk.

“You brought me breakfast in bed?” I asked, picking up the cereal and beginning to crunch away.

“Would you like to take a drive with me this morning?”

Mid-bite, I looked toward the window, dismayed by his apparent lack of concern about the storm, which sounded like it was tearing apart the roof. I swallowed.

“You have noticed the weather, right?” I asked.

“I’ve seen much worse.”

“O-kay. And may I ask where we’re going?” I asked dryly.

“It’s a surprise.”

I debated as I continued eating my cereal.