Page 9 of A Dream of Stars and Curses

The point is, I did think of it. Everyone has sex dreams, but this wouldn’t be like that. Not when I’m lucid. I wouldn’t wake up and go ‘whoa, where did that come from?’ because I would have made it happen. It’s one thing when it happens when you have zero control over it. But I would be controlling it, which means I’d feel too much like I’m taking advantage of dream-Leverett. Like I’m making him do something he doesn’t want to do.

And I just can’t bring myself to do that.

‘It’s still just a dream, you know,’ Mischief purrs around my legs. ‘It’s not real. He’d never know.’

‘But it is real,’ I argue. ‘Sort of. It’s my decision. It doesn’t happen to me. Don’t you see the difference?’

‘Are you sure?’ Leverett murmurs into my ear. My vision goes fuzzy. He puts an arm around my waist and pulls me to him. His erection presses against my back. His arms are very naked, too. ‘I’m right here,’ he whispers.

His breath against my neck is one thing too many. I sigh and push myself away from him. I don’t turn around, though, because I’m not sure I could resist if I saw him naked right now. I’m kinda impressed with my own willpower, but I don’t want to find out today where my breaking point is.

I’m pretty sure a naked and hard Leverett is my breaking point. I’m only human with very real limits.

‘This is ridiculous,’ I say to Mischief. Maybe he’ll go away if I pretend that I don’t see him. ‘I don’t even know what he looks like naked. Where is this’—I almost gesture behind myself at him but don’t want to accidentally touch something I’m not supposed to—‘body coming from?’

‘Wish fulfilment,’ Mischief purrs. ‘He wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want—’

‘I know!’ I hug a tree because I’m afraid he’ll still be there if I turn around to face Mischief. It’s easier to pretend that he’s not if I can’t actually see him, so I hide my face in the bark. ‘Help me. How do I address this? How do I fix it?’

I look down. Mischief sits upright by my feet. ‘You could be a grown-up and tell him you’re not interested.’

‘I don’t think my unconscious will fall for that.’

I’m not a great liar at the best of times, and lying to yourself—your unconscious—only really works when you believe the lie yourself. I don’t think there’s anything I can say that’ll trick me into believing I don’t have feelings for Leverett.

‘You won’t know if you don’t try,’ Mischief says. ‘You didn’t fight the Dreamcatcher for control only to lose it to Leverett.’

And yet, under different circumstances I would give him complete control over me in a heartbeat. But that kind of thinking doesn’t help right now, so I take a deep breath and decide that Leverett is fully clothed before I turn around.

Thank fuck that worked.

I walk towards him on weak legs. ‘Please, leave. I don’t want you here.’

It’s hard to get the words out when I mean the exact opposite. I hope that the bit of truth in there helps: I don’t want him here. I want him in real life on his sofa, in my bed, in his bed, in—

Leverett smirks at me, and I melt. He reaches out to pull me to him again, but I take a forced step back. I need distance between us or I’ll never survive ten minutes in his bookshop.

‘Please,’ I whimper. When he smiles and walks towards me, I add, ‘Leave.’

Gods. Why is this so difficult?

It shouldn’t be. I haven’t known him that long, and he is a vampire. Maybe I should focus on that. Maybe if I see him rip my throat out or something...

I look to my right, where another version of me is being shoved against a tree. His claws have grown more than enough to run me through, but instead, he cradles me in them. When he rams his fangs into my throat, the other Esta moans, fists his hair, and thrusts him closer by her legs wrapped around his waist. I don’t look away as fast as I should.

‘Damn it.’

Apparently my unconscious couldn’t care less that he doesn’t drink blood.

‘Would that even work?’ Mischief asks. ‘Surely his claws would saw you to ribbons?’

I take another deep breath and will the pretty vision to go away.

But of course, my unconscious knows better. Usually I can create just about anything I want in my dreams, but my emotions are getting in the way a little where Leverett is concerned.

I lean against a different tree and slide to the ground. ‘How do I do this, Mischief? I’m supposed to order a tarot deck through him tomorrow, but I don’t... How can I be around him when this plays in my head on a loop?’ I gesture towards the other tree, where dream-Leverett violated Other-Me in the sexiest way I’ve never known possible a moment ago. Turns out, I do have an idea what his fangs would feel like. Judging by Other-Me’s reaction, it’s good.

And it’s not just this, either. I can’t close my eyes without seeing his smile. I’ve caught myself spacing out several times because he keeps entering my daydreams, usually by entering me. It turns out my daydreams are very creative. How am I supposed to talk to him like this?

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