My pulse quickens and my mind fills with a recollection of what else that tongue can do.
“Stripes?” he says, smiling over the rim of his mug. “Earth to Abby…”
I blink. “Sorry. Zoned out.”
He comes around to my side of the counter, setting down his mug at the place next to me. I can smell him; the dream is too far gone for me to remember what Dream Lachlan smelled like, but it can’t have been better than the real one: clean and athletic and fresh. He puts a hand on my shoulder to brace himself as he leans up and over the counter to grab the sports page from the pile. His chest moves in a fluid line past me, brushing against my hands as I white-knuckle death-grip my phone. But just that little bit of contact is enough to suffuse my face with color, a bright, glaring red that might as well be screaming “I HAD A SEX DREAM ABOUT YOU.”
He frowns at me over the paper. “What is up with you? You look like you just spent twelve hours in the Mykonos sun.”
“Nothing,” I say, but it comes out a strangled, high-pitched mess. I clear my throat and try again. “I’m fine.”
Lachlan squints. “Did I say something? Did I sleepwalk into your room and piss in your trainers? You can’t even look at me.”
“Just having a slow morning.” I abandon my phone and grab a section of the paper, flipping it open with what I hope comes across as a cool, calm nonchalance.
“It must bereallyslow, because you’re reading the paper upside-down.” He takes a sip of his tea and his eyes are light with glee.
I have a brief debate with myself about how long I can play it cool before realizing that the answer is zero seconds. I sigh. “Okay, fine. I had kind of a weird dream about you.”
“Ah, soz, mate. Was I a dick to you in it?”
I almost laugh at his word choice. “No, it was a…specialdream. You and I were…engaging in some consensual adult activities.”
I watch the light of comprehension spread across his face as he twigs my meaning, and despite my soul-crushing mortification, it’s actually delightful. He leans back and cackles in delicious, delirious glee. “You had asex dreamabout me?”
“Yes, I did. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go die.” I scoot my stool back, but he stops me, holding the chair in place with his foot.
“No no, you’re going to tell me everything that happened, in excruciating detail.”
“I would literally rather eat glass.”
“Abigail, you know I will not stop asking you until you cave.”
I sigh again. This is so not how I wanted this to go.
“At least tell me if I was any good.”
There’s no point in lying to him. “Yes. Very.”
He pumps his fist and almost spills his tea. “I knew it. What did we do? Where were we?”
“Right here, actually. You, um…” I trail off. For some reason, I can’t tell him about the kissing. A sex dream is one thing, but a kissing dream is entirely another—so much more intimate. So I fast-forward a bit. “You just lifted me up onto the counter and spread my legs and went to town on me…on my…you know.”
“Westartedwith that? God, I’m such a gentleman.”
“That’s actually all we did. Or all we got around to before my alarm very rudely interrupted.”
“I’ve let you down, Stripes. Shame you didn’t get the…total package.” He pumps his eyebrows for emphasis.
I cover my face with my hands. “Oh my God, kill me now.”
He pries my hands apart so I can see how his expression has turned serious. “So are you, like, in love with me? Is it going to be really awkward now?” He holds the look of concern for about half a second before the mirth creeps up again.
“Yeah, obviously I’m obsessed with you and it’s about to be hell for both of us.”
“Seems right.”
I look back at my phone. “No, I mean, don’t flatter yourself. It’s been so long since I’ve gotten laid that my subconscious is clearly like, ‘Come on,anyonewill do.’ ”
