He’s not gonna stop. I don’t want this, but he doesn’t care.
I’m pushing and shoving him, but he doesn’t react. He just keeps me pinned in place with one hand, while his other hand pushes my legs open…
I’m yelling and crying out, still nothing. My throat is raw.
But then, my voice finally comes back.
“No, please, stop!”
My eyes open. All I see is darkness.
I’m breathing hard and shaking. I blink over and over, making out the darkened images in front of me.
A window and a lamp and a nightstand…
I’m in bed. Blake’s bed. I was having a nightmare.
“Briar? Are you okay?”
The sound of Blake’s rough, sleepy voice is instant comfort.
I squint in the darkness and see him sitting up on the floor. He must have been sleeping on the air mattress.
He wasn’t here when I went to bed, so he must have come in later, when I was asleep.
It takes a moment for me to make out his face in the dark. His brow is furrowed. Worry is etched in every line on his face.
When I don’t say anything, he stands up and walks over to me.
He kneels at the side of the bed and gently cups my cheek in his hand.
“Hey,” he says, his tone soft. “It’s okay. I’m here.”
Calm washes over me. I stop shaking.
I close my eyes as my breathing evens out. “I…I had a nightmare.”
I touch my fingertips to my throat, scared that I’ll feel pain or soreness. But to my relief, I don’t feel anything.
It was just a bad dream.
Blake gently brushes my hair out of my face. That’s when I realize how much I’m sweating.
“Oh, I’m so gross,” I say.
“You’re not gross,” he says in that soft, gentle tone.
My eyes are used to the darkness now. I can see his watchful expression, the focused look in his blue eyes as he stares at me.
Seeing him like this—seeing him at all is a shock to my system.
It’s been three days since the last time we saw each other. Three days since we were this close, face to face. Three days since he walked out on me that night after we fooled around. Three days of him barely answering my texts.
I should be mad at him. But I’m not.
My nervous system, which was going haywire in my sleep, is suddenly calm. Because he’s here. My best friend is here. He’s here, and he’s looking at me like I’m the only thing in this world that he cares about—like I’m the only thing in this world that matters to him. And in this moment, it’s exactly what I want. What Ineed.
“What’s wrong? What happened?” he asks in that low, rough tone that makes me warm all over.
