“It’s fine. I just slept through it.”
“That’s not like you. Are you under the weather?”
“Not at all. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to get dressed.”
“Sure, okay. I’ll be downstairs.” He didn’t leave right away, instead gazing at me in a way that heated my already overheated skin. I was flushed from the dream, and somehow it felt like Jace could see exactly why I’d slept through my alarm, like it was written all over my flaming red face. At long last, he turned, exhaling an oddly staccato breath, and went back down the stairs.
Frazzled, I hopped out of bed and grabbed my thickest, fluffiest dark grey robe. It was bizarre, but I almost felt hung over. I needed coffee ASAP, so I slid on the slippers that matched my robe and made my way downstairs. Normally, I would’ve showered and gotten dressed, but Jace had already seen me in all my messy haired, braless, sex dream glory, so what more did I have to lose? Plus, it was late, and I needed to make Zara’s breakfast.
He’d only been back in my life a short while, and already, I was letting my standards slip. Jace had a way of loosening the buttons that normally kept me all tidily held together. To be honest, I couldn’t tell if that was a good or a bad thing.
Jace turned from fiddling with my coffee machine. “Oh, hey, you’re—”
“Not dressed, I know. You’ll just have to deal with me looking crazy this morning,” I said, giving him a little shove to get out of the way since he clearly had no idea how to use the machine.
“Crazy isn’t the word I’d use,” he said, so quietly I thought maybe he was just talking to himself.
He didn’t move from the spot beside me. Instead, he watched intently as I turned on the machine and grabbed the capsules. Silence was thick between us before he asked, “Did you sleep poorly last night?”
“I slept very well.”
“I just thought that since you didn’t wake with your alarm that maybe you’d had trouble sleeping.”
I bristled. Why was he so curious about this? It was almost like there was blood in the water, and he sensed it was something to do with him.
“Nope.” I went up on my tiptoes, retrieving two mugs before setting Jace’s under the spout first.
“Then why didn’t you—”
“Why are you suddenly so interested in my sleeping habits?” Annoyance laced my words as I put my hands on my hips and faced him.
“I just want to make sure you’re getting enough. Sleep is important.”
His lips twitched, the first sign that he was enjoying riling me, and I was too jittery by what I’d recently dreamt about him to act rationally. “It was a dream,” I said. “Happy? Now you can drop it.”
I shoved his cup of coffee at him before starting on my own. He took it happily and sipped, still eyeing me with interest. “Oh, so it was one of those,this dream is so good I don’t want to wake up from itsituations?”
“Maybe, sure.” My words were stiff.
“Mam, where’s my school cardigan?” Zara called down the stairs, and I was grateful for the distraction.
“It’s in the second drawer,” I called back, hoping Jace would move onto a different topic.
With the mug near his lips, he took a small sip, then asked, “What was it about?”
I glowered at him. “None of your business.” Pouring a generous amount of milk into my mug, I moved to start on Zara’s breakfast. Normally, I’d have had it prepared before she woke up. She’d come downstairs, eat breakfast, then go back upto get ready for school. But given I’d overslept, I was only getting to it now. I opened the fridge and pulled out some bread to make her favourite, almond butter and blackberry jam on toast with a banana and a glass of apple juice.
“You used to love telling me about your dreams,” Jace said, which was true. I liked telling him if I had a strange dream so that I could get his take on what it might mean. For instance, if I dreamt about going to the supermarket and suddenly finding myself naked in the dairy aisle. Or if I was being chased by something scary and forgot how to use my legs.
This morning’s dream was not something I was interested in getting Jace’s take on.
My cheeks heated just remembering it. The way he’d—
“You seem embarrassed.”
“I’m not.”
“Then why is your face my favourite shade of scarlet?”
