He swallows, his throat bobbing. A long breath is released from his chest. “Nothing.”
I turn and crawl to him and kiss him. His arms come around me and hold me tight, so tight, and we kiss until I can’t think, until that expression I saw on his face is gone. Soon, his hands are pushing me down to my stomach and he’s tying me up and I’m breathing hard, waiting for him to make me his…
And that’s all we know for a long time.
It’s hours later when something wakes me up.
My eyes open and blink around the room, getting my bearings as I try to figure out what happened. It’s still dark outside, but my body feels as if it must be close to dawn.
There’s a groan next to me where Z is flailing around on the bed, his legs jerking. Loud bellows come from him, and I give him a gentle shake.
“Z, you’re having a bad dream.” I keep my voice low, not wanting to startle him, but he doesn’t hear me. My hand touches his shoulder. “Z…wake up.”
He flinches, his eyes shooting open wide as he jumps straight out of bed and blinks rapidly.
“It’s me,” I say, getting up and putting my feet on the floor. Feeling around in the dim light, I grab my glasses that I set on a chair next to the bed last night. I see one of his HU T-shirts and my underwear so I snatch those up and slide them on too.
He just stands there, looking dazed, his chest heaving.
“You’re shaking,” I say as I walk over and click the lamp that’s on his nightstand.
He blinks at the light.
Fear pricks at me when I see the pain on his face.
“Bad dream?” I ask. Willow? is the question on the tip of my tongue, but I don’t bring her up. We’ve spoken about his nightmares, but he’s never had one with me. I have a morbid curiosity about them, but mostly, I haven’t asked. He keeps things to himself, and I trust he’ll tell me everything eventually.
He seems to come to, his eyes focusing as he looks at his phone. “It’s four.”
“That’s super early. Let’s go back to bed.”
An agonized expression crosses his face. “I can’t. Once I’m awake…it won’t get out of my head…” He stops and rubs his jaw.
I sigh, nodding. I pad into the kitchen and head to the sink, fill a glass with water, and take it back to him. He’s sitting on the bed when I return, his head bowed in his hands.
I put the cup in his hands and he blinks at it, as if he forgot I was here, and then he takes a sip and puts it down on the nightstand.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.” With a heavy breath, he stands and snatches up last night’s clothes. He puts them in a hamper then goes to his dresser, picking out new clothes. “I’m getting out of here for a while.”
“Where?”
“For a run.” He pulls on a long-sleeved black running shirt and athletic pants.
“The sun isn’t even up.” I know he runs early, but I’m here today and that hasn’t happened before.
“I’ll wear a reflective vest.” He pulls on socks and then shoes, tying the laces harshly. “It clears my head.”
“Do you want me to come with you?” I mean, I can’t skate worth shit, but I can run, and for some reason, I don’t want him to be alone. “I have some clothes and shoes in my car that might work, and if you give me a jacket—”
“No,” is his swift reply. He pauses and brushes his eyes over me. “Look, I’m sorry to leave you, but I want to be alone. You can stay as long as you like. At least your truck is here.”
My fingers pluck at the edge of his shirt, which falls to mid-thigh. “When are you coming back?”
He grabs a knit hat from a dresser drawer. “Later. I’ll probably head straight to the gym and get in a workout and shower. Then I have class, and then…” He stops and stares at me, a frown on his face. “It’s getting to be crunch time with our games, Sugar. I’ve got to keep up the work and keep everything cool. No stress. Feel me?”
I frown. He likes to do things a certain way because it helps him feel more focused. Still, I’m left winded by his easiness at leaving