Beauty In Her Madness (Winterland Tale #3) - Stacey Marie Brown Page 0,79

session later in the day, but I couldn’t stay in the apartment until then. After taking another quick shower and dressing, I headed for a coffee shop in the opposite direction of the one I went to before. I could never show my face there again.

Standing in line, the smell of coffee filled my senses. The need to feed my caffeine habit kept me oblivious to everything around me except the barista.

“Dinah?”

My body jerked at the familiar voice, then a strange sense of excitement and dread plunged down to my toes.

Oh, Christmas gravy.

Slowly, I curved around, peering up at the familiar face, my gaze dropping to the mouth that had been on me.

“Hey.” Trevor grinned eagerly down at me, his hazel eyes glinting. “I was hoping to bump into you sometime. I am surprised to see you. My lucky day.”

My jaw wouldn’t unhinge, and I stared at the guy who had been on his knees, eating me against a neighbor’s house last night.

Though all I had felt was Frost, it didn’t take away from the logical part of my brain stumbling over the details, knowing I had been extremely intimate with the guy in front of me.

“How are you doing this morning? I’m still a bit hungover.” His flirty smile widened.

“I’m okay,” I replied.

“From what I recall of last night, you looked hot.” His scrutiny ran down me. “Can I buy you coffee?” He stepped past me, already ordering from the barista. “Dinah?”

“Cinnamon latte,” I responded robotically. My stare dipped to his hands, recalling the way those same fingers moved inside of me, gripped my hips, and trailed over my figure, lighting me on fire.

“Oh, tree tinsel,” I muttered, my hand going to my head, feeling like I wanted to pass out. Everything was so topsy turvy and crazy; there was no box you could put what happened last night in. The guy I had practically fucked against the house wasn’t really him, but a holiday cartoon character, who was actually a sexy man living in another realm called Winterland.

“Oh god.” I pinched my nose, my breathing labored. If I had sex with Frost last night, it would have meant I actually had sex with Trevor too. That thought swished bile in my stomach.

“Hey? You okay?” Trevor’s voice popped my head up.

“Oh, yeah. Fine.” I swallowed, not able to look at him. “Headache.”

“Yeah, I feel you.” He grabbed our coffees, offering me mine. “Sit with me? We didn’t get to talk much last night.”

Uh. No. We certainly didn’t do a lot of talking.

“Ummm… I can’t, I have an appointment. Maybe another time,” I fibbed, pointing over my shoulder, already stepping back. “Thank you for the coffee.”

“Wait.” Trevor countered my steps, his tall frame close to mine. “Everyone says Jacob and me were fighting over you last night, and I disappeared for a while after you left.” Trevor rubbed his head. “I completely blacked out. I don’t really remember anything.”

Spikes of terror speared into my lungs. His hazy memory only solidified everything that happened last night was real.

“It’s okay.” I tried to step away again, but he clutched my arm.

“No, it’s strange, but I have this deep feeling in my gut that…”

I swallowed audibly.

“Did we…did we hook up last night?” His regard dropped to my lips. “I would hate if I fucked you and I didn’t remember.” He leaned in closer. “I had crazy dreams where I had you pinned up against a house, my tongue deep in your pussy, but at the same time, they don’t feel like dreams. I woke up, and I swear I could taste—”

“Oh god! I need to go. I’m late.” Panic whirled inside me like a helicopter, the need to run moving my legs for the door. I realized Trevor saying those words to me made me feel nauseous and disgusted with myself, though when Frost said them, my blood heated and craved it.

“Wait, Dinah!” he called after me, but I was already out and darting down the sidewalk. “Dinah!”

“Sorry, have to go. Late!” I called over my shoulder, not stopping.

My world felt as if it were tipping over, leaving me afloat and alone in my craziness.

Sometimes going a little crazy is the only way to find your way again.

Crazy.

Bonkers.

Insane.

All labels I would slap on myself, but inside I felt none of them were accurate. I was caught between what society would tell me and what my heart felt.

Fear of being “wrong” or not normal was deeply embedded in my gut, creating the person I