I can’t breathe. This can’t be happening again. Tears start streaming down my face as I scream at him to stop.
“Marley!” He’s shaking me, but his voice is different.
No! I try to kick him again and hear a quiet grunt. My head is starting to spin.
“Marley!” His hands are on my face. No, his hands are around my neck. But wait, warm, rough hands are on my face.
“Lepa!”
My eyes fly open, and Jax is hovering over me, his hands cupping my face and his eyes moving quickly between mine as I come out of the haze of the dream. The ceiling fan slowly turning on the ceiling behind his head. Is it really him? I jerk back and scrabble to sit against the headboard of my bed. Helets go and sits back with his hands up in front of him.
Gulping down air like a fish out of water, I look around the room. I forgot to close my blinds and the floodlights from my stables are casting soft, dim lines of light across one wall. Yes, this is my room. My bedside table is next to me, my open book face down on the surface, and my boots are messily laying in the floor next to the door.
This is my room.
The bedroom door is open and a commotion out in the hall sounds like bare feet on the wood floor, then I see Mason, followed by Dad, running into the room.
“Hey, you’re okay. It was a dream.” My eyes fly back to Jax, and a sob chokes out of me. He flinches like he is about to move toward me, but thinks better of it and stays where he is. The concern in his eyes as he watches every twitch on my face makes me feel bad for scaring him.
Gray slides to a stop, from a run, in the doorway. “Is she okay?”
Jax is sitting on the edge of the bed from where he sat down to wake me. Mason steps up behind him, his hands on his hips, and still in his boxers and a T-shirt that he’s put on backwards and wrong side out.
Taking deep breaths, I keep choking back the sobs that want to take over. It felt so real. I hate it when they feel that real.
“Do you want one of your pills, Squeak?” Gray asks from the door. He’s thrown on his sweats, but he didn’t bother with a shirt. His shoulders nearly take up all the doorway and his arm is over his head cocked against the door frame, his other hand shoved in the pocket of his pants. His eyes are laser focused on me.
Shaking my head, I look down at the sheets that are twisted around my legs. That’s why my legs felt tied down in the dream.
“No, I don’t like them. They don’t stop the dreams, they just make it harder to wake up from them.”
My t-shirt is soaked with sweat and is getting cold, sending goosebumps across the surface of my skin. Jax looks down at my front and he takes off his T-shirt and pulls it over my head, threading my arms through the sleeves like a parent would a child.
Looking up at my brothers and father, I try to smile at them, but I think it looks more like a grimace. “I’m fine, go back to bed.”
“Do I need to get you some water, sweet pea?” Dad asks, his groggy voice even more gravely. His short, thin hair is standing up in spikes on his head and even when he runs his hand over his head, they stick back up.
Shaking my head, I try to smile again. “No, I’m fine, Dad. Thank you.”
“Hollar at me if you need anything.” Mason says as he steps next to me and grabs my shoulder to kiss the top of my head. He looks at Jax and claps his hand on his shoulder. “You coming?”
Still feeling like I’m in between the real world and dream world, I just nod at Mason. The bed shifts as Jax starts to stand, but I reach out and grab his hand and he freezes, his fingers curling around mine.
“Wait.”
His presence makes me feel better and I don’t want him to go. If he leaves, the room will feel so incredibly empty.
I look down and see his front is covered in tattoos. There is only the dim light from the hallway nightlights that we keep on for Lainey Rai peeking in through the open door and what’s coming through my blinds, and I can’t really see what they are, but I can see lines and pictures all over his skin.
He’s even more impressive with his shirt off, his torso is nothing but lean muscle. The workout pants he has on sit lowon his hips and I can see the perfect outline of a defined six pack. His face is closer than it was before because he’s in the middle of a crouch to stand and my eyes meet his.
His eyes lock on mine in question and I ask, “Will you sit with me for a minute?”
Mason stops at the door and looks between us, his hand on the door frame. His eyes lock on mine and I try to give him a reassuring smile, but he only looks at Jax again before disappearing around the door.
He’s not happy that I asked Jax to stay. He also left the door wide open. I don’t care about that, I’m not hiding and I’m not a child.
Without saying anything, Jax stands, and I worry that maybe the question was inappropriate or he’s worried about what Mason is thinking, and he is going to leave, but he steps to the head of the bed and taps my shoulder. “Scoot up.”
