Page 108 of If Only In Our Dreams

“I’m sorry I couldn’t fuck you tonight like I wanted,” I hummed against his downy soft hair. Robin made an angry sound—his head whipping back so he could glare at me.

“Shut up.”

“Iwantedto,” I told him, voice more vulnerable than I’d let it be with anyone else. “It’s…” I sucked in a breath. “It’s unfortunate that my body gets in the way sometimes.” I tried to smile, but it was pained. Not because of my back this time, but because I hated that the night hadn’t gone exactly to plan.

It had been agoodplan.

The best plan.

And I felt cheated.

“Believe me, I know how that feels,” Robin admitted, voice quiet and hushed. I didn’t think he did. He was young. And he’d never had an injury like the one I’d had.

I must’ve looked confused because he explained, voice shaky, “I dunno if you’ve noticed, but I have pretty severe insomnia?” Robin cracked a smile, trying to keep his tone light even though the topic was very heavy. “It started when I was on the road. There’d be these nights where I was so amped up from performing my eyes just…wouldn’t shut. I’d just lay there—and the harder I tried the worse it became. And then the anxiety started to kick in. And then the late nights got later. And everywhere wasunfamiliar, andnew—and I was so fuckinglonelyI just…” he made a soft, frustrated sound.

“After a while, I stopped sleeping at all. And the more desperate I got to fix the issue the worse I made it. Like stressing out about it was actually hurting me more.” Stress was killer on the body, especially for someone who felt their feelings as strongly as Robin did. “When I fell asleep on your arm it was like fucking nirvana,” Robin admitted. “Iknewyou were special. Ever since then. Like there was just something my body recognized about yours that made you…I dunno—” he cut himself off, obviously embarrassed. “It’s cheesy.”

“Tell me,” I demanded, tone still soft.

“You make me feelsafe,” Robin admitted. My heart ached. Then, because he realized he’d gotten off track—he continued explaining. “Anyway. Sometimes, because of the lack of blood flow and yada yada yada—doctor speak—my dick just doesn’t…”

Oh.

Oh.

It took me a second to understand what he meant. “But you jerked off with my conditioner.” I didn’t mean to say it out loudlike that—it simply came out. Robin made a sound like he was dying and hid his face in the pillows.

“That was acelebratoryjerk off!” he whined. “Because it’d been a really long time since I’d rested enough that my dick decided to wake up.”

“Robin,” I sighed, melting into him and lacing a kiss against the flushed skin at the back of his neck. “Thank you so much for sharing that with me.”

So hedidunderstand.

Even if our situations were different, they were close enough.

“It made me feel broken for a while, you know?” Robin’s voice was muffled. “But…” He twisted to peep one lovely green eye at me. “I’m not.” He said the last two words with enough confidence that it caused a slow grin to spread across my face. “You taught me that, you know?”

“I did?”

“Yeah. Just now. And before—when you told me about your back.” Robin shifted, peering at me, his cheeks bright red and his expression sheepish. “Made me realize how stupid it was to beat myself up over something I can’t control, when here I am—not mad at you at all for pretty much the same thing.”

“A double standard,” I agreed, so fucking proud of him I wanted to bellow it from the rooftops. I was distracted. Distracted enough, that I hadn’t noticed Robin had not given me the surprise he’d promised.

“Soooo…yeah,” Robin nodded, making sure I was making eye contact before he spoke again. “You’re perfect the way you are. And there will be other dates—” It was my own words, thrown right back at me like he hadn’t even noticed that’s what he’d done. “So don’t feel bad.” His words were soft and sweet, and as the blanket of snow fell outside, peace fluttered around inside my belly.

Somehow, I knew, deep down, that things were going to work out for us.

I wasn’t sure how.

But they would.

And it was withthatconfidence that I drifted off to sleep—content that tomorrow we’d be losers together—and I’d get to prove to Robin once and for all that I wanted him, “poison” or not.

The snow had melted by the time we arrived at the fairgrounds that hosted Belleville’s Annual Pie Festival the week of Thanksgiving. I’d never attended before. Miles had never taken me—which was apparently a motherfucking shame. Because the second I arrived, I was both shocked and delighted by how bright and lovely the whole place was.

This wasnothinglike any of the events I attended in L.A.

The closest I’d gotten to anything this lively was the one and only time Nancy had taken me to the Santa Monica Pier for my birthday, and even that paled in comparison to the event that unfolded at the Belleville fairgrounds. It hadn’t helped that the paparazzi had found me there, but I was trying not to think about that—and them, and the way they affected my life back home.

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