Chapter 26
Unfortunately I don’t sleep for long until I am awoken by a nightmare. My subconscious is apparently working over time, and I gasp myself awake, trying to process the flashes of images that are lingering in my mind.
The dream began ordinary enough, with me working a normal shift at work. I was caring for a patient, when Andrew showed up and began chasing me through the halls. I tried running for my life, but my legs were so heavy that I couldn’t move. Then Caleb appeared, and murdered Andrew in cold blood right before my eyes. Cold blood, and a lot of it. I mean a lot of blood. I’d had no idea that my mind could conjure such gory, disturbing images. The dream then took a very… *steamy* turn, and I had the best dream sex *of my life*– in a supply closet, no less– until I opened my eyes and saw that Caleb had morphed into Andrew, which is when I jolted awake in a cold sweat. Now I’m sitting here, half turned on, half terrified, and with no idea what emotion is going to win out. One thing I am certain of, though, is that sleep won’t be finding me again anytime soon.
I pick up my phone to scroll and hopefully occupy my mind long enough for the unsettling images to clear themselves from my mind, but let out a curse when I see that the battery is dead. Of course, in my panicked packing last night, I forgot to grab my phone charger. *Shit*.
I am way too amped up to continue to lay here. My sleep-addled mind is a haze of fear, blended with a sex-crazed haze, and it is a god-awful combination. I roll out of the bed and shuffle to the bathroom, where I splash cold water on my face in an effort to clear my mind a bit. It helps, but only a little, so I move back into the bedroom and pace for a few minutes.
After several moments of pacing, I start to feel like the walls are pressing in on me, which is crazy because this room and en suite bathroom are literally bigger than my entire apartment. I cross the room to open the windows, hoping some fresh air will help, but all it does is make me colder. I shut the windows again, and realize that I have to get out of this room. I don’t want to just roam Caleb’s house in the middle of the night like some kind of creepy Victorian ghost, though.
That’s when I remember that he has a television in the sitting area in his loft just down the hallway. I could go sit out there and watch something to try to distract myself until I can calm down enough to go to sleep. That wouldn’t be weird and creepy, right? I decide it would not, in fact, be weird and creepy, and move across my room to open my door as silently as possible. I slink down the hallway, trying to make as little noise as possible. Just being out of my room helps lift some of the tension off of my chest immediately, and I can breathe a little easier.
I reach the cozy sitting area in a matter of moments. I look around, taking in the room, then move to settle into the extra-wide couch. I sink in, and I swear this damn couch is more comfortable than my mattress-bed at home. Fortunately, Caleb has his controllers neatly displayed on the enormous ottoman. Unfortunately, that is controllers, plural. I have never been great with technology, and am definitely a little intimidated by trying to figure out which of the *four* freaking controllers will turn on the television.
I spend a couple of minutes finagling with them, and I am able to get the television to turn on, but no sound is playing. Then I get the sound to turn on, but it is playing music, rather than the sound that matches the picture on the screen. I give a groan of frustration, which then turns into a squeal of surprise as I nearly jump out of my skin when I unexpectedly hear Caleb’s voice from behind me.
“Need help?”
“*Oh my god*, you scared me!” I scold him halfheartedly, more than a little embarrassed about the loud squeak that I just made in his presence.
“I’m sorry, I thought you heard me walk in,” he says with laughter in his voice, and amusement sparking in his eyes. He moves in front of me, and I glance down his body to see that he is shirtless and wearing nothing but sweatpants slung low on his waist. Flashes of the… *inappropriate*… moments from my dream last night flash through my mind against my will. I jerk my gaze away from his ridiculously perfectly chiseled abdomen, and just pretend that I never laid eyes on him. He playfully snatches the controller from my hand and plops down right beside me, rather than on the opposite end of the couch.
“Oh my god, what did you do to my poor TV?” The mock horror in his voice makes me laugh.
“I’m sorry, but maybe if you didn’t want your TV messed up by unsuspecting women, you shouldn’t have gotten the most complicated TV of all time,” I tease.
“It’s not complicated once you figure out what each of the remote controls does, and which buttons to press!”
“That is practically the definition of complicated!” I am laughing so hard now that tears are springing to my eyes and I have to wipe them away. Caleb laughs with me for a moment, and I can’t help but appreciate how easy things are with him. Too bad he is my superior at work, and he also tried to kill me once. I guess our relationship is nearly as complicated as his damn television.
The smile slowly drops from my face, and I ask, “Did I wake you up?”
“No, actually, I hadn’t fallen asleep yet. I am kind of wound up. I heard the TV and I wanted to make sure that you were alright,” he says gently.
“I had a nightmare,” I confess, and for some reason it makes me feel like a child. Then before he can ask for any more details, I add, “What’s got you so worked up?”
Heat sparks in his eyes, and he slowly roams his eyes down my body, then back up. I am suddenly *very* aware that I am not wearing a bra, and that fact is only slightly hidden by his too-big T-shirt on my slight body.
“I’ll give you one guess,” he says, his voice low and gravelly.
*Fuck, I shouldn’t have asked.*
My face scrunches, and I suddenly feel like a scolded child. He played it cool earlier, but he must be *pissed*. I shouldn’t have led him on like that earlier, because *nothing* else can happen between us.
“Shit, I am so sorry. I let my control slip earlier. I shouldn’t have kissed you like that and then left you hanging.” My face is hot, and my entire body tenses up waiting for his response. I am genuinely surprised when his brows crease in confusion.
“Are you really apologizing for that? I kissed you back. Kissing doesn’t mean that you’re obligated to go farther. You can always stop anytime you want. *Always*. And if any man ever tries to make you feel guilty for that, you run fast and far, because that is not a good man.”
“Oh, I…” I don’t even know how to respond to that. Clearly I have never kissed a good man, if Caleb is to be believed, because no other man has *ever* given me explicit permission to just… stop.
“And just to be clear,” his eyes lock onto mine as he continues, “I fucking *loved* kissing you, and I would love nothing more than to do it again. I know you said that you are not in the headspace to be taking a step like that, and I completely understand and respect that. There is no pressure from me, okay? Not ever.”
I give him a small nod, too overwhelmed to speak.
“Now that we’ve cleared that up,” he says, his tone light and playful again, “What do you want to watch? Since you finally have someone competent in the art of using this television.” He gives me a wink, and I can’t help but chuckle at him.
We end up settling on some cheesy alien documentary, and I honestly have a great time with him, laughing at some of the terrible reenactment acting, until, at some point, I doze off right there on the couch next to him.