Page 2 of Even In Our Dreams

I can’t help the grin as I huff a laugh and wave her off. “Me? Oh, no. Me and my lonesome are just fine.” I have my books coming day in and day out as I edit them and an easy carefree life. I’ve tried dating and it just … it has not happened. “Dating almost always ends in disaster for me,” I admit. In fact, I can’t remember the last time I was excited for a second date. Or the last time I’ve felt attracted enough for a third date. Until this moment I hadn’t realized, it’s been almost two years since I've been intimate with a man. My gaze lowers to my purse which is sitting on top of the location I just thought might have cobwebs.

“A lonely heart isn’t something to ignore,” Nurse Ginnie tells me with a tone that reflects wisdom… even if the mouth it’s coming out of lacks that when it comes to men.

Still, she catches me off guard.

With my lips parted to respond, she cuts me off, “Just undress and put this on.” With a wink, she passes me the thick pastel blue fabric sheet, “And then doctor hottie will join you.” She chuckles again as she leaves and all I do is thank her, pushing down the anxious butterflies that have been asleep forever, but are not disturbed.

I recall every bad date I’ve had since college as I strip, folding my clothes and setting them on the bed. The back half is raised so they have to lay where my bottom just was. It was one bad date after the other. Somehow each one worse than the last.

At that thought, I realize the sheet dressing she gave me must be upside down or backwards. In nothing but my underwear and a sheet, I cluck my tongue, trying to figure this thing out. Why can’t they make it easy like a robe? There are a couple of snaps and ties and I attempt to get it right as the memories flood me.

From bad breath kisses, to being cat fished and stood up.

There’s only so much a girl can take.

I fiddle with the ties, attempting to get it tight, but decide on leaving them be. I’m covered and I’m pretty sure it’s on correctly. With that settled, I lift the pile of clothes and my heavy purse on top.

My feet dangle off the edge and I let them sway, until I remember the last date I went on and how I swore I would never do a blind date again. Mark was an ass. That statement is so true, I nearly say it out loud. As my gaze searches the small room, I see another stool, tucked to the right of the bed. I’m busying trying to balance the clothes while kicking out the stool when the doctor’s voice comes through the door.

“Knock, knock. All set?” he asks and my heart stops. I swear I know that voice.

“All set,” I call out and drop the clothes and purse to the new stool beside me. Only the purse is heavy and snagged on the pastel sheet covering me, pulling it down with me and the moment that door opens, it plays in slow motion.

My keys falling out of my purse and clinking to the floor, my hand going up as I yell out, “wait!” as the sheet that’s supposed to cover me slips down. Embarrassment floods my cheeks with heat that must’ve come directly from the sun.

And my crush from high school, with his gorgeous eyes widening, comes in and stares right at my naked left boob, soft nipple and all, that peeks out from the sheet covering I couldn’t figure out how to tie.

Oh, my God, no.

BENNET

“Oh my God, out!” her shriek is clearly heard and yet I hesitate just a second too long.

As I turn, realizing, I’m staring into the mortified face of a woman I can’t believe is even here, my back hits the door, my hand misses the knob and I nearly smack my face against the edge of the door before somehow managing to get the hell out of the room.

Wide eyes from Ginnie meet mine as she pauses in the hall. I wave her off with the clipboard in my hand, pretending that my heart isn’t racing. That it isn’t attempting to gallop out of my chest.

“I’m sorry, all good now!” her feminine voice calls from beyond the door.

Composure. Composure. It takes two deep breaths for me to grab the door knob. Thank fuck I pause before turning it. I have to readjust and wait a moment longer before forcing a polite smile and reopening the door.

There was a professional response I was prepared to say. There was a moment of clarity that came over me before my gaze set on her once again. But the second I realize she is, in fact, Aubrey Peters the comment vanishes into thin air.

My heart races once again.

“I am so very sorry…” she swallows thickly and my eyes are drawn to her collarbone and then up to her slender neck before she finishes, “that was an accident.” She nearly whispers the last bit with a muted laugh lacing her tone. “I do apologize,” she repeats as our eyes lock and I struggle to gather my composure.

After clearing my throat, I manage, “Not a worry, Aubrey. I swear I didn’t see a thing.”

A short huff leaves her and her lips kick up into an asymmetric simper as she stares back at me. As if judging whether or not I did catch a peek of what was beneath her blouse.

My cock reminds me that I did and I lower the clipboard as I ask, “Did you need any help or?”

“No, no, I’ve got it,” she answers and clears her throat, glancing away as that beautiful blush creeps back up to her cheeks.

I pull out the short stool on wheels and have a seat, “It’s nice to see you. We went to-”

“High school. Of course, I remember you,” she says so easily, so sweetly and my blood heats remembering how much I coveted her from a distance all those years ago.

---