Page 6 of Even In Our Dreams

“Just let me run in and grab my purse,” she motions towards the door as an easy breeze blows by and my heart skips a beat. I give her a short nod and take in every inch of her.

There’s something that stirs inside of me, telling me this was meant to be. A little deja vu, like in some other life, it wouldn’t be our first date, this would have been a normal day for us. I get home from work, she slips off her friend’s porch to greet me with a kiss.

No kiss for me though, instead I get a gorgeous view of her beautiful backside as she turns to head towards the door.

“She looks breathtaking doesn’t she?” Lauren calls out from the porch. I’m not sure if it’s her house or one of the two other women, Marlena and … someone I don’t quite recognize from a distance but I bet if I heard her voice, I’d know who it is.

We all grew up together and names and stories have flooded me this week since I’ve been back.

“She does,” I rock on my heels, raising my voice so Lauren can hear me and just as I slip my hands into my pocket, I hear a small squeal and a thud and turn to see Bree, face down on the sidewalk.

The peanut gallery lets out a collective groan and one of them comments just loud enough that I can hear, “Shit, that had to hurt.”

With quick strides I head to Aubrey, who’s grimacing but trying to play it off.

“What happened?”

“I just…” she starts and then winces and grabs her ankle.

“You fell?” I question and check the ground for what she tripped over.

“It’s fine,” she waves me off but when I hold my hand out to her, she places hers in mine and allows me to help her up. She’s dainty in my hands and I find myself bracing her for longer than probably needed. Her soft curve fits perfectly.

Her hazel eyes peer up at me and there’s a spark that’s reignited. Her breath hitches and she swallows thickly before pointing to the house.

“I just have to,” she starts but isn’t able to finish as our gaze locks.

“Grab your purse, right,” I finish for her and loosen up my grip.

She takes a single step, not breaking eye contact but then the tension is cut.

“Oh,” she winces, taking in a sharp breath.

“I might need to walk this off actually,” she comments and scrunches her face.

“Let me just check it, you could have sprained your ankle.” Before she can object, I wrap my arm around her waist and help her up the steps.

She’s putting weight on it, and I imagine she’s just fine, but having a quick look to make sure everything’s alright won’t hurt.

“Thanks,” she whispers and when I peek down at her, that spark hits again and this time it slips past my racing heart, down lower, to the one part of me that I wish wouldn’t interject right now. I clear my throat and think of every possible thing I can to soften my growing erection.

What am I? A freaking school boy going through puberty?

With heat rising up my neck, I’ve never been more embarrassed but luckily, Bree doesn’t seem to notice.

“I would do this. They all told me not to mess it up and look at me now,” she jokes as she pushes the door open with a soft creak. I laugh along with her, taking in her foyer. It’s modern but quaint. The houses on Cedar Lane have been here for years and I can tell she’s put work into her home. The wall going up the stairs is a dark green, almost emerald with white and copper accents of picture frames and paintings. To the left, it’s a soft cream and leads straight into her kitchen.

She leaves me as I stand in the foyer, taking one step and then another. “See I’m fine.”

“Just have a seat and let me have a look at you,” I tell her and then my cock reminds me of every fantasy I’ve ever had of being this close to Aubrey Peters.

She leads me through the kitchen, which is tidied up with a fresh bouquet of wildflowers in a vase in the middle of the island, to the cozy living room. It’s painted a soft gray, but there are pops of color everywhere you look. From the pale blue crochet throw blanket on the back of the deep navy velvet sofa to the abstract painting hung on the wall behind it that contains nearly every color in varying smudges.

All of the feminine touches feel like her.

“It’s a little much, I know,” she jokes as she lowers herself to the sofa.

“Not judging,” I hold up both hands and then lower myself to my knees in front of her. I’m careful as I take her ankle in my hand.

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