Page 55 of Dean

I swipe at my eyes and waggle my hands around my face. “Nothing, just wish I had someone like you growing up. I wish my sister had that…”

“She did. She had you.”

“Oh god, don’t say that…it’s making me emotional. Because I left her, Dean. I left her there, but I had to. It was either that or some kind of creepy camp where they’d try to turn me not gay… Well, anyway…you don’t need to hear about that.”

“You can talk to me about anything anytime.”

I sniffle loudly, feeling flustered by the cop showing up and now talking about my sister.

“I just feel guilty, you know? Leaving her. I hope she doesn’t resent me.”

“I doubt she does.”

I nod and swallow roughly. “Okay, enough about that. I know I was starting dinner, but can we come back to it? I think I’d really like you to take me for that ride you promised me now. I’d love to clear my head for a bit. And there’s nothing like feeling like I’m going to fly off a speeding bike to help me with that.”

Dean’s hands cup my cheeks, his thumbs smoothing across my skin. And I can’t help the flutter in my eyelashes.

“Dean,” I whisper and his eyes slash down to my lips before moving away, his hands falling from me slowly.

“All right. Get something warmer on and we’ll go. Dinner can wait.”

I wake up in a sweat, a terrible dream plaguing my mind. God, I hate nightmares. I don’t have them often, which is surprising given my toxic home life growing up, but I had one just now.

Damn Nick. Why can’t he just leave me alone? He got what he wanted. I’m gone and now he’s harassing me with police officers?

No wonder I had a dream I was being pulled away from Dean and locked in a cell.

Asshole.

I swallow, my throat clicking, and drag myself out of bed to grab a glass of water. When I make it to the kitchen, I see Dean standing there, clad in only his boxers, his phone in his hand like he’s texting someone.

Oh heaven, help me. I went from a nightmare straight into the best dream ever.

He could not look any sexier than he does now, all rumpled and tired. He looks like he just got done having sex.

I can vividly imagine what he smells like right now because I’ve been pressed up against him. I’ve smelled him far too many times.

“Avery,” he says, a little surprised to see me at three in the morning as I stumble toward the cabinets. I fumble through a few dishes, searching for the damn water glasses.

“Thirsty,” I say with a dry mouth, and I try to avoid staring at him. Oh my god, but look at those thighs.

I want to ride one of them. I’m not greedy. I’d be okay with justone.I’d just hump it until I came.

I’m so easy. And it would make me feel so much better about everything. It would really take my mind off all of it.

“Hey, what’s wrong? You’re shaking,” he says as he moves up to me and gently takes the water glass from me. He fills it with water and then hands it back, his eyes dropping to the jersey I’m wearing.

His jersey. Again.

Oh, crap. Honestly, I forgot I had it on. How fucking embarrassing. But after the ride and dinner, I put it on because I wanted to be close to him in some way.

It made me feel better.

“Oh god,” I groan and then chug the water, hoping I just drown. Is that a thing? We should make it a thing.

“Like I said, I don’t mind you wearing it and you look good in it,” he says lowly, and oh fuck, there goes my dick.

It’s getting all excited that he noticed me.

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