I started backing out of the room.
"My dad comes in tonight.
Technically tomorrow.
His flight lands at five."
"You picking him up?" "Of course."
His smile faded.
"You're going to kill yourself at this rate.
You haven't gotten any sleep all week."
"I'll catch up.
See ya."
"Hey," he called after me.
"Does last night mean you and Cross are okay again?" I leaned into the doorjamb with a sigh.
"Something's wrong, and he won't talk to me about it.
I wrote him a letter basically puking out all my insecurities and neuroses."
"Never put stuff like that in writing, baby girl."
"Yeah, well .
all it got me was f**ked half to death with no better idea of what the problem is.
He said it has to be this way.
I don't even know what that means."
He nodded. "You act like you get it," I said.
"I think I get the sex."
That sent a chill down my spine.
"Get-it-out-of-your-system sex?" "It's possible," he agreed softly.
I closed my eyes and let the confirmation slide through me.
Then I straightened.
"I gotta run.
Catch you later."
* * * The thing about nightmares was that you couldn't prepare for them.
They sneaked up on you when you were most vulnerable, wrecking havoc and mayhem when you were totally defenseless.
And they didn't always happen while you were sleeping.