Dreams of Us

by St. James, Brooke

  He took my hand and brought it up to his lips. He pressed his lips to my knuckles, causing my heart to skip a beat.

  "I don’t know if it's the dreams or what it is, but I feel like I know you already." His eyes met mine. "You have no idea what a relief it was to see you last night."

  "I think I might," I said. "I can't say I've been having reoccurring dreams, but there's something different about you. I tried to forget about you too, but…" I trailed off, feeling too embarrassed to finish.

  "I'm sorry I didn't take you home last night," he said. "I really regretted leaving you there—especially with that other guy."

  "He's harmless," I said. "And you're here now."

  Chapter 10

  Jordan came to my apartment after Lexie headed home. We chose a movie on Netflix, but we talked so much that it was more like background noise. My apartment was small, and it seemed even tinier with him in it. I had a full size couch on one wall of the living room facing a fireplace with a flat-screen television mounted above the mantel. There was a leather chair nearby, but we both sat on the couch. We weren't even touching, and I still got a thrill at the sheer possibility that we might at some point. I remembered him sitting on the foot of my hospital bed, talking and smiling the same way we were doing now. I would have never imagined that one day he'd be sitting on my couch, but there he was.

  We talked about playing college sports. He knew quite a bit about baseball but asked about the differences between it and softball. He played soccer while he was getting his undergraduate degree. I knew nothing at all about soccer, so he schooled me on the rules of the game. We also talked about rock climbing, and I promised I would go with him sometime. We swapped stories about everything we could think of from our childhoods, to movies, music, books and art, comparing taste and laughing about our differences.

  I asked him about God, and was somehow not surprised to find out that he was a Christian. I told him about my experience with the preacher named John Malone—that I was in a place where I couldn't understand how someone like me could have a second chance at a normal life, but he had put it in perspective for me.

  After we talked about God, our conversation shifted. We started talking about food and the fact that we both had a love for sushi and seafood in general. It was during this part of our conversation that we realized we were starving. It was almost 8PM, and we had forgotten to eat dinner.

  Neither of us was dressed for anything fancy, so we walked to a diner down the street. Jordan held my hand as we walked like it was the most natural thing in the world. I caught myself wanting to show him off. I made eye contact with people on the street as we walked, hoping they were noticing us holding hands.

  The diner wasn't called Mel's, it was called Miller's, but it looked like it should be called Mel's. It was a 50's style diner complete with checkerboard floors and lots of chrome. We sat across from each other in an old school booth, and a lady wearing a waitresses dress and an apron came up to take our order.

  "I'll have the chicken fried steak with potatoes and greens, and a vanilla milkshake," he said, handing her the menu.

  "I'll have the same," I said.

  He smiled and raised his eyebrows at me and I shrugged innocently.

  "What? I'm hungry."

  "I wasn't smiling at that, really."

  "What were you smiling at?"

  "I like the sound of you saying you'll have the same, that's all."

  "I like what you ordered. It sounded good."

  "It sounded good hearing you say you'd have the same. It's sort of like you wearing one of my T-shirts."

  I giggled at that. "That's not the same at all."

  "Sure it is. Maybe it's not quite as good as seeing you in one of my T-shirts, but it still pretty good." His smile was breathtaking. I wanted to crawl under the table so I could sit on his side of the booth and snuggle up to him.

  "Jordan Crawford, my man!" a guy said. He spoke with familiarity in his tone, and I looked up to see him smiling down at us from the edge of our booth. Without asking, he squeezed into the seat next to Jordan, giving him no other choice but to scoot over. "Who's the pretty lady?" the guy said, extending his hand for me to shake.

  "Bailey," I said.

  The guy was roughly Jordan's age, but he was at least fifty pounds heavier and wore a big, burly beard. I could tell he was a character just by the way he smiled at me. He shifted his face around as if he was scratching his nose without using his hands.

  "Are you his girlfriend, or what?"

  "No," I said, even though I wanted to say yes.

  "Yes you are," Jordan said.

  "Ohhhh," the guy said, laughing with his fist over his mouth.

  "J.C.'s in love and she doesn't love him back."

  Jordan smiled and shook his head at the guy who was obviously being silly.

  "I'm Hank," he said, looking at me. "Me and J.C. go way back to his crazy days."

  "High school," Jordan clarified.

  "Back then, he got all the ladies." He elbowed Jordan. "Looks like you lost a thing or two over the years."

  "Oh, I think you misunderstood," I said, feeling the need to take up for Jordan. "I'm crazy about him. I just said I wasn't his girlfriend because we really haven't discussed that."

  "Awww, daaang, son!" Hank said, leaning over dramatically. "You got a hot little mamacita sitting here saying she's crazy about you and you haven't sealed that deal?"

  Jordan smiled confidently. "She's my girlfriend, Hank. We got it under control."

  "Is this the first she knows about it?"

  Jordan glanced at me. "I guess it is," he said. "Pretty romantic that we're sitting at a diner with you egging us on."

  "It's a good thing I came over here," Hank said. "She'd probably go the rest of her life wondering whether or not you liked her."

  "I promise you she would not do that."

  "You gonna marry her?"

  "Probably."

  "Am I invited to the wedding? It's the least you could do after I helped things along tonight."

  "I would've been fine on my own, but I'll think about inviting you just to keep my mom on her toes."

  Hank laughed. "How is Kathy?"

  "She's doing well."

  "Hank are you torturing these poor people?" a woman asked, coming to stand near our table with a baby on her hip.

  "How's it going April?" Jordan asked.

  She sighed and hoisted the baby a little higher on her hip. "I'm good. We're good. Just trying to keep this one out of trouble." She pointed at Hank so we wouldn't think she meant the baby.

  Hank gestured for his wife to sit next to me. "Have a seat, babe," he said.

  I instinctually slid over.

  "Hank, let these people have dinner."

  "They don't mind," he insisted.

  "We don't mind," Jordan said.

  "We were on our way out, so we won't stay long," she explained, squeezing herself and the baby into the seat next to me. "I'm April, Hank's better half."

  "Bailey," I said.

  "Jordan's girlfriend," Hank added with a wink.

  Neither of us corrected him.

  I smiled at April and the baby. He was a cutie. I was terrible at guessing kids' ages, but he looked to be about one. "What's his name?" I asked.

  "Henry Joseph after his dad."

  "He must be, what, the fourth or fifth?" Jordan asked.

  "I'm the third; he's the fourth," Hank said. "Huh, boy, four generations of strapping Frasier men."

  "The kind of strapping man who starts crying when he gets caught egging Mrs. Harris' house?"

  "I didn't cry," Hank said, defensively. He laughed. "Okay, maybe I cried a little. But her husband was really scary, and he got out his shotgun."

  "You didn't tell me about that," April said, smiling at Hank.

  "Men don't tell stories that end with them crying, honey. In fact, we try our best to forget them. Thanks for that, Jay."

  Jordan smiled. "No problem."

  "H
ey, we're going out on the boat next weekend if you two want to come along. We have a babysitter."

  Jordan looked at me and I gave him a tiny little shrug the way couples do to let him know I was up for it. "I have to work Saturday," Jordan said.

  Just then, the waitress came to our table with the food. She sat the plates and milkshakes in front of Jordan and me before looking at Hank. "I assume you don't need a menu since you've already eaten," she said with a smile.

  "I'm just here saying 'hey' to my boy who I haven't seen in years."

  "Just making sure," she said. "Anything else I can get you two?" Jordan and I both shook our heads, and she walked away.

  "April and I will be on the boat all weekend. We'll dock at the marina Sunday and pick you up if you wanna come out for a little while."

  Jordan looked at me again, and I smiled and nodded.

  "Great," Hank said slapping the table. "Just like old times." He got to his feet with a groan indicating how full he was.

  "Maybe not just like old times," Jordan said.

  "Lord, let's hope not," April said, scooting out of the booth with baby Henry.

  "Nice seeing you April," Jordan said.

  "You too." She smiled at me once she got to her feet. "Nice meeting you, Bailey. I guess we'll see you Sunday."

  "Where are we supposed to meet you?" Jordan asked.

  Hank reached out to take the baby from April. "Just call the store sometime this week. They'll give you my cell, and we'll hook it up."

  And just like that, Hank, April, and Hank the fourth were gone, and Jordan and I were left at the table staring at each other with matching expressions.

  "Sorry about that," he said.

  "About what?"

  "Him. That. Him putting you on the spot like that. He's a spoiled rich kid who never grew up. He's used to saying whatever's on his mind."

  "I think you just called me your girlfriend," I said, biting my lip shyly as I cut into my chicken fried steak.

  "Yeah, I probably should have run that past you first."

  I glanced up at him. His golden eyes made my heart skip a beat. "You were in a bind," I said nonchalantly. "Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do."

  "So it's official, then," he said as more of a statement than a question.

  I set down my fork and narrowed my eyes playfully at him. "Are you asking me to go steady with you, Dr. Crawford?"

  He smiled. "I've already married you in my dreams, so going steady, as you say, seems a little too noncommittal, but yeah, I guess so, if that's what you want to call it."

  Chapter 11

  Jordan had the following two days off, so we met up after I got off work and spent the evenings together at his loft in Bucktown. It was a contemporary space with brand new, modern everything, but it was somehow still cozy and inviting. He said one of the nurses at the hospital was an aspiring interior designer and had helped him furnish the place. My brain went immediately to the conversation I overheard at the hospital, and I couldn't help but assume that this interior designer was also the one that had a crush on him. Then, I reminded myself that jealousy was just a big waste of time. Obviously, the interior designer was not in his loft eating takeout with him.

  Starting Wednesday, Jordan had to be at the hospital basically non-stop. He would text me when he had the chance, but he stayed really busy, and we rarely had time to catch up. He warned me that it would be this way until he was done with his residency.

  He got off work early Sunday morning, and was at my apartment to pick me up at noon. I was ready to go, so I opened the door within a few seconds of him knocking. He was standing in the hallway wearing fitted dark jeans, leather loafers, a vintage T-shirt, and a windbreaker. He'd gotten a haircut since the last time I saw him, and he looked devastatingly fresh and handsome. I was glad I had put some effort into my appearance. We almost looked like twins in our windbreakers, although mine was a girlier version.

  He smiled and sighed when he laid eyes on me. "I can't believe I haven't seen you in four days," he said.

  "I can't believe you fit in a haircut since the last time I saw you."

  He ran a hand through his hair. "My barber's right down the street from the hospital."

  I stood back to let him come in. "It looks good," I said.

  "You look good." He smiled. "I've been missing you."

  He took a step inside, but stopped in the entryway and pulled me into his arms. He held me tightly and sighed as if he was relieved to have me in his arms. I felt the same relief, and I went willingly into his embrace, letting my body relax onto his broad chest.

  "I've been missing you too," I said with my face nuzzled into the place where his chest met his neck. He smelled good, and I felt as though I could stay in that position forever.

  "We should probably go," he said.

  I pulled back to stare up at him. "I figured," I said with a smile. "I'm ready when you are."

  He gave me a squeeze. "Then, why are you trying to keep me here?"

  I tried to pull away, but he held me tightly. I was about to ask what he was talking about, but he gave me a sly smile.

  "Why do you keep holding me here when I'm trying to leave?" he asked, holding me captive with a straight face. "We need to get on the road, Bailey."

  I shrugged and smiled, getting into his little game. "I can't help it," I said. "I like to hold people places against their will."

  He smiled with his arms securely around me. "I wish you'd just let me go already."

  I gave a little squirm, testing the strength of his grasp. He still held me firmly. "Sorry," I said, smiling. "You're not going anywhere."

  His smile broadened. "What can I do to make you let me go? What do you want from me?"

  I took a deep breath and stared at him with a serious expression as if contemplating my options. Again, I wiggled a little just to make sure he still had a hold of me. He did. "I've got you right where I want you," I said. "I'm just not prepared to let loose of you yet."

  He made a face like he was distraught. "What can I offer you to let me go? Would a kiss do the trick?"

  "Hmmm."

  "It's a really good one," he said.

  "Oh yeah?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

  "Yeah, it's the I haven't seen you in four days kind."

  "Is that better than the normal kind?" I asked.

  "Definitely."

  "I guess I could think about letting you go if it was a really good one," I said.

  He smiled and licked his amazing, full lips before gently letting them fall on mine. The second they touched me, I felt a warm wave of anticipation begin coursing through my body. I tilted my head upward and parted my lips just slightly. That was all the invitation he needed. He let his tongue dip into my mouth, and I welcomed it. I was so desperate for him that I sucked on it gently, trying to pull him deeper. I was aching for more of him. He broke contact and put a hand over his face, letting out a little moan as if the temptation was unbearable.

  "I guess I'll let you go now," I said, assuming he was letting go. As soon as I said it, he wrapped his arm around me again, holding me securely in place. "Nope," I said, "changed my mind. You're not going anywhere."

  He smiled. "You wouldn’t be holding me captive like this if you knew I was an infamous pirate."

  "Infamous pirates don't scare me," I said.

  We were quiet for a few seconds.

  "Ma'am?" he asked.

  "Yes."

  "Would you please let me go so I can go to the marina to meet my friends?"

  I gave another little squirm, only to find that he was still holding me tightly.

  "Nope," I said. "Can't do it."

  "I guess you'll be wanting another kiss then," he said, sighing as if it was a big inconvenience.

  "Yep."

  "Okay, but after that, you're gonna have to let me go. I've got an important social engagement and you're making me late."

  He licked his lips again, which made my stomach turn flips. Then there it was—h
is mouth on mine again. Every time felt like the first. He put three, four, five, gentle kisses on my lips before pulling back to stare at me. He sighed as his grip loosened.

  "Okay, seriously we have to get out of here now, or I'll never let you go."

  ***

  We walked down the dock together. Jordan was holding my hand with one hand and a bag of groceries with the other. He motioned to the huge sailboat at the very end of the dock. "That's the one," he said.

  "It's J.C. and his girl Bailey B!" Hank said, catching sight of us as we came near.

  "How'd you know I was Bailey B?" I asked as he helped us up the steps onto the boat.

  "April thought you looked familiar the other night. She found a picture of you and your hot girlfriend in a magazine when we got home."

  He made the statement as if it were no big deal, but my stomach turned and the blood left my face instantly. He hugged me as we stepped onboard, but the whole exchange was surreal in light of what he'd just said. Jordan stepped onto the boat and we all stood there looking at each other. I don't know why I was thinking I could just get away from my past without it coming back to haunt me.

  "That's not Bailey anymore," Jordan said.

  Hank laughed and punched at Jordan's arm. "That's too bad, because those girls are every guy's dream if you know what I mean," he said out of the corner of his mouth like he was trying not to let his wife hear.

  "No, I really don't," Jordan said.

  "You would if you saw the picture I saw," Hank said, still chuckling.

  I felt like crying. I didn't even care about my own humiliation—it was Jordan's that concerned me. I wanted to leave him just so he wouldn't have to deal with the repercussions of my past. I was already having thoughts of breaking up with him as his friend stood there with a huge grin on his ruddy-cheeked face.

  Jordan sat down the bag of groceries and grabbed Hank around the shoulders the way buddies do. I watched as his grip tightened and Hank's expression turned from a smile to a worried frown.

  "Chill out, dude," Hank said. "I was just complimenting your hot girlfriend. I thought she knew it was every guy's dream to—"