Page 46 of The Bossy One

He’s way out of my league, I said instead, because that was true too.

His reply was instant.I highly doubt that.

I smiled. @DBCoder might be snarky, but he was sweet too. Guys weren’t sweet like that in real life. At least, not the guys that I knew.

Good night, I wrote.Go sign up for a dating app. Meet someone who doesn’t work for you.

Ha. Dating apps are a terrible idea in my case. But I appreciate the suggestion.

I logged off and turned off the lamp by my bedside. As I drifted off to sleep, I wondered idly what @DBCoder had meant by “in my case.”

* * *

I dreamed I was on Declan’s boat, but instead of Declan being there with me, it was @DBCoder. He was a shapeless silhouette, in the way of dreams, but Iknewit was him standing behind me, his palm skating over my stomach, as he dropped a kiss on my cheek, then the base of my neck. It felt so good, but I knew it was wrong.

I can’t, I said.Not you.

What if I was someone else?He turned me around, and then it wasn’t @DBCoder anymore, it was Declan. And there wasn’t anything hazy or shapeless about him. It was Declan kissing me roughly, Declan’s hands on my hips, Declan boosting me up onto the railing of the boat, so that my legs could wrap around his hips.

I clutched at his shirt, a thrill shooting through me. Too late I realized we weren’t wearing life jackets.

We’ll fall, I protested.

Then we fall, Declan said, and then his hands were sliding under my sundress, cupping me, stroking me, as he bit my neck and ordered me to fall with him.

Or was he begging?

I twisted in his arms, and then I was twisting in the sheets, and then a wave swept me overboard and away from Declan, and I jolted awake as he called, “Olivia. You up?”

I blinked in the morning sunlight, pulse racing.

There was a gentle knock on my door, and Declan asked again, “Olivia?”

“Yes?” I was confused until I glanced at the clock and realized I’d overslept by over an hour. “Shoot.” I scrambled out of bed, pulling a sweatshirt over my pajamas for a bit of additional modesty.

I yanked open the door and shoved my hair out of my face. “I’m so sorry. I overslept. Does Catie need help? I’ll be there in a second.”

“Slow down,” Declan said, his grin lazy as he leaned against my doorframe. “Catie’s fine. I’m just making eggs and bacon and wanted to see if you wanted some.” His grin faded and he frowned. “You never oversleep. Are you feeling all right?” He reached out with the back of his hand to feel my forehead.

Unfortunately, that made me think of all the things his hands had been doing in my dream.

“You’re not hot, but you’re definitely flushed,” Declan said, sounding concerned.

I pushed his hand away. “I’m fine.”

He looked skeptical.

“Really! I’m fine.”

“Suit yourself. Breakfast will be ready in ten.” He looked me up and down one last time, biting back a smile. “Nice sweatshirt.”

I looked down, confused, as he walked away.

Then I realized that in my haste, I’d grabbed the sweatshirt he’d loaned me on movie night. Which meant he probably thought I was sleeping in his clothes, like a real weirdo.

Or like a woman with a crush.

I groaned, and went to get dressed as quickly as I could.

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