Page 52 of One Touch

Chapter 11

Lily

Who knew that 37percent of women have nocturnal orgasms at some point in their life? I didn’t. But now I did, because it happened to me last night, so naturally I looked it up.

I woke up, legs still trembling, slightly confused. The dream had been so vivid. I could feel Ethan’s body. I could even smell him, a mixture of cologne, metal, and smoke. We were having sex in the dream. Duh. But the special thing about it was that we were having sex in a kind of magical, woodland clearing. There were cute little animals all around us—rabbits and butterflies and twittering songbirds. There were toadstools growing under trees and there was this huge double rainbow arcing above us.

It was perfect. Inhumanly perfect. And I was just trying to explain that to Ethan, to tell him that it was all too perfect to be true, when he covered my mouth with his hand and grunted out the words, “I. Will. Destroy. You.” That’s when he came inside me, and it was so hard, and so fucking good, that I woke up, panting. My pussy muscles were clenching and spasming withthe memory of that big, hard cock inside me, and I felt a wetness between my thighs.

Oops.

It took me a moment to figure out what must have happened. I felt embarrassed, then I felt bewildered and then, finally, I started to laugh.

“This is too much,” I whispered to myself.

At breakfast, when Ethan asked how I slept, I swear I blushed. I just about managed to mumble: “Not bad.”

“Uncle Jack says the sleeper sofa is as comfortable as venereal disease,” Ava chimed in, her eyes wide with innocence. “Whatever that is.”

I choked on my cornflakes, coughing and sputtering. “The sofa sleeper is . . . fine. Totally fine. Nothing disease-like about it.”

Ethan raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like Lily’s aiming for the Guinness World Record in enthusiasm this morning.”

“I’m returning to work today,” I blurted, desperate to change the subject. “My brief career as a laundry technician has come to an end.”

Ava looked at Ethan, her face scrunched in concern. “Dad, I think Lily’s malfunctioning.”

“Now, now,” Ethan said, his lips twitching. “I’m sure Lily’s just . . . what was it again? Not bad? Totally fine?”

I shoveled the last of my breakfast into my mouth, trying desperately not to notice how Ethan’s white tee clung to his chest like a second skin. “Yep, that’s me. Totally fine, not-bad Lily. Now, who’s ready for school?”

Ava groaned. “Can’t I stay home and help you debug the robot Lily instead?”

I stood up, gathering my things. “Sorry, kiddo. This robot’s got to get to work. Maybe we can debug me later.”

As we headed out, I could feel Ethan’s amused gaze following us. Great. Now I had to survive a whole day of work whilemy brain kept replaying both my dream and this mortifying breakfast. Just another not-bad, totally fine day in paradise.

On the way to school, Ava chatted cheerfully to me about Bruce Bogtrotter, one of the characters inMatilta, and what would happen in real life if someone at an entire cake like he did. I told her to ask Elara, who had probably witnessed it with her own eyes at her bakery.

When we got to school, Ava reached out for a hug. “Come on, girl,” she said, grinning. “Bring it home.”

I gave her a giant hug and for some reason, couldn’t help tearing up a little. Thankfully, she didn’t notice and scampered off.

After that, I headed to my store. I pushed the door open and sighed, before heading to flip on the coffee machine so that I’d be good to serve when I opened.

I paused, looking around at the shelves of romance novels surrounding me. Why didn’t I feel that familiar spark of excitement anymore? Considering I’d literally woken up from a hurricane-force dream-gasm this morning, you’d think I’d be all about the romance right now.

But instead, I just felt . . . empty. Disconnected. Like I was going through the motions in a story where I no longer believed in the happily ever after.

Maybe I could sell the place. Maybe I could just give it to my old staff member, Yolande. She had been pretty passionate about the place. I mean, sure, she was maybe a littletooobsessed with vampire romances than was healthy, but hey, we all had something, right?

So . . . I could ditch the bookstore. Then I could just—what? Run away? Forget Vlad and Ethan and the town and romance and everything? I’d promised Ethan I wouldn’t leave Ava, and I didn’t want to, but. . . .

There was a sudden, insistent tapping at the window. Elara. Not carrying pastries this time. Just glowering at me.

“No croissants?” I asked, unlocking the door for her.

“No croissants, indeed!” She huffed. “This isn’t a social call. This is serious business. This, in fact, is an intervention!” She stormed into the place, then sat on the pink leather couch and glowered.

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