I settle against him, listening to his heartbeat slow. His hand keeps stroking my back, steady and grounding.
"Ash?"
"Mm?"
"This is the first time I've stayed over at someone's place in... a long time."
"Yeah?"
"Usually I'm the one kicking people out of my bed. Or leaving theirs. Easier that way. Less complicated."
He's quiet for a moment. "Me too. Never wanted anyone to stay before."
"But you want me to stay."
"I want you to stay." He kisses the top of my head. "I want you to stay tomorrow, too. And the day after that."
"Careful. I might take you up on that."
"I'm counting on it."
He yawns, and I feel it move through his whole body. "Sleep. I'll make you breakfast in the morning."
"You can cook breakfast?"
"I can make coffee and burn toast. Same thing."
I'm laughing as I drift off, safe and thoroughly fucked in the arms of a man who's finally letting someone stay.
My boyfriend.
Mine.
Chapter 14
Ash
The dream is always the same.
Sand and heat and the roar of an engine. The convoy moving through the valley, dust clouds rising behind us. Brennan in the passenger seat, laughing about something—I can never remember what, just that he was laughing. His head thrown back, that sound I'd know anywhere, the one that made me fall for him in the first place. I see him ahead, see him laughing. Never close enough.
The road ahead, shimmering in the desert sun. Mountains in the distance that never seem to get closer.
Then the flash. The sound that isn't a sound, just pressure and light and the world turning inside out. The vehicle lifting, spinning, everything happening too fast and too slow at the same time.
I'm digging through rubble. My hands are bleeding but I can't stop because he's under there somewhere, he has to be under there, I just have to find him. Someone's screaming and it might be me. Metal and stone and the smell of burning and I can't find him, I can't—
I wake up swinging.
Or I try to. Something heavy is pinning me down, warm and solid across my torso. My fist connects with something that isn't pillow or mattress—something furred and alive.
I freeze.
In the dim light from the window, I can see it. Him.
A lion is lying half on top of me, one massive paw draped across my body, his head resting on my shoulder. Golden fur, darker mane just starting to come in around his face—not the full impressive mane of the massive lions I've seen at zoos, butsomething softer, younger. Amber eyes watching me with calm concern.
Jason.
