I shake my head vehemently. “It’s fine. I’m good.” I stand too, with my water, and make my way to the bedroom, my head still woozy. I sense Mabel wringing her hands behind me, but I can’t deal with her right now. I just need to lie down. Where it’s quiet. And dark.
So I do that.
I vaguely hear Mabel moving around the apartment. Hopefully she’ll just go home. I doze off for a little while, then stumble into the bathroom. Back in my room, I change into a nightie and crawl back under the covers and fall asleep again.
* * *
When I wake up again, I have no idea what time it is. The room is dark, silent… except for the sound of someone softly snoring.
What the fuck?
I try to flop over but there’s a big, warm body in my way. Jesus!
Marek.
I can tell just by the shape of him. The smell of him. He always smells good.
What the hell is he doing in my bed?
It is nice, I have to admit. He throws a lot of heat and I feel all cozy and toasty. And he’s not really snoring; more like husky breathing.
But still! The nerve!
I poke his shoulder. “Hey. Wake up.”
He stirs and mumbles.
“Why does this keep happening?” I jab my finger into a muscle again. “I keep waking up with you.”
He rubs his face and blinks a few times at me. “Hey. You okay?”
“Yes. Why?”
He lifts a hand as if to touch my face, then drops it. “You had another bad dream.”
“I… did?” I don’t remember. But then I do… sort of. It’s fuzzy and shadowy, but I do remember a feeling of being buried, struggling desperately to free myself in the dark… terrified. I frown.
“Yeah. You were making a lot of noise, so I came in here. But I don’t think you really woke up. I just got in and hugged you until you calmed down. I guess I fell asleep, too.” He yawns.
Well, shit.
Then Marek stretches and I am instantly aware of his bare, hairy leg rubbing against my bare and hopefullynothairy leg. My nightie has ridden up around my hips.
Every nerve ending in my body sparks.
“You’re okay now?” he asks quietly. “You don’t remember the dream?”
I close my eyes. “Not really. I remember being afraid.” I puff out an exhale. “It wasn’t a very good night.”
“Yeah. Mabel said you weren’t feeling well.”
“I guess that’s one way to put it.” I pause. “She waited for you to get home?”
“Yeah. She was worried about you.”
“You didn’t tell her…” My words trail off.
“She knows about what happened to you. I haven’t told her that you’re…” Now he stops. We’re both dancing around saying outright that I’m a loon.
