by E. J. Mellow
“Rae?”
He steps into the light of the alcove, shifting his dark skin to a deep honey color, shock and slight concern etched on his face. He’s wearing a similar black outfit like the night we met. Remembering where I am and what I’m holding, I bring the books closer to my chest, hiding their subject matter.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
He moves his gaze over the material in this area. ”I could ask you the same thing.” A small part of his mouth inches up. “I’m grabbing some texts on medicine. This place has good ones on homeopathic remedies.”
“Oh,” I say, not really sure why I’m surprised by his answer. He definitely looks like the type of guy who’s into his health. I shift my weight to my other foot. “I was out on a walk and stumbled onto this place.”
Rae squints at what I’m failing to hide in my hands. “Having some interesting dreams lately?”
“No, why would you think that?” I say too quickly.
His eyes search mine for a moment, and then his features relax. “Just assumed from what you’re holding.”
“Oh, these?” I ask innocently.
“Yes, those,” he says, amused.
“Yeah, I…uh, I was just curious about some things, I guess.” I glance down at my books, not knowing why I’m so embarrassed by them. By the sound of it, Rae shops here frequently. “I hear you’re seeing Becca tonight,” I say, desperate to find another subject of conversation.
He regards me a second longer before answering. “Yeah, we have dinner. I’m thinking of taking her to this little sushi place in Brooklyn near her apartment. Then maybe to a movie.” He slowly turns out of the alcove, and I follow, still clutching the texts. I guess I’ll be buying something after all.
“That sounds like a fun night.”
“Yeah, I thought so. I remember her saying that she loved sushi.” Rae quickly glances at the homeopathic section as we pass it and picks a volume to buy, practically at random. He must really know his stuff.
“She loves a lot of things,” I say with a laugh.
“Yes, she does.” Rae smiles warmly. “She’s quite the force. It’s one of the things that captivated me about her.” He places his book on the register, and the kid behind the counter huffs at having his reading time interrupted. I smile to myself hearing Rae’s honest words about my closest friend and knowing exactly how he feels.
After we make our purchases, Rae and I exit the store. That is, after I almost choked on the total cost of my items. Someone’s really profiting here, and I have a feeling it’s not me.
“Well, Molly, I would never in a thousand years have thought I would run into you there, but it’s always a pleasure,” he says genuinely.
“Crazy coincidence.” I smile. “Oh, so Becca told me you’re in town on business—I hope you aren’t planning on leaving soon.” I want to gauge how attached Becca should be getting to this out-of-towner.
“Mmm, it might seem that I’ll be here more permanently than expected.”
“Well, that’s good. Work has you here longer?”
“Yeah, there’s a specific contract that needs more attention, so I’m going to be here working until my boss says otherwise.”
Good news for Becca. “Well, I’m glad you’re staying, even though that doesn’t sound so fun.” I scrunch up my nose at the prospect of dealing with life insurance contracts for longer than necessary. “I hope your friends in California won’t miss you too much.”
His smile deepens. “I think they can manage.”
“Good. Well, have fun tonight, and I hope to see you again soon. Maybe not in weird bookstores though.” I laugh lightly.
“Yes, I’m sure we’ll see each other one way or another.” He opens his arm to give me a slightly awkward hug good-bye, given his height.
“Okay, have a nice rest of your day,” I say as we both go our separate directions.
“You too, Molly.”
I actually have to head the same way as Rae but feel like I need to escape what could become another slightly awkward conversation.
—∞—
It’s late afternoon when I make it back to my apartment and plop myself on my bed, deciding to dig in to my impromptu purchases. The first book I open is what I guess is a regular dream dictionary: a plethora of alphabetized symbols and their meanings. I read the opening description.
Symbols are the language of dreams. A symbol can invoke a feeling or idea, and often has a much more profound meaning that any one word can convey. At the same time, these symbols can leave you confused, wondering what a dream was all about.
I snort at how much that hits home before reading on.
Having the ability to analyze and understand your dreams is a powerful tool. By doing so, you can learn about your deep secrets and hidden feelings.
Oh geez. My common sense is telling me to stop right there, but let’s be honest, who can walk away from the tantalizing prospect of learning about their “deep secrets and hidden feelings”? Obviously not me.
Flipping through the pages, I wonder about what I want to look up. What sticks out most about my dreams?
Black. Everyone is always wearing black. I turn to the Bs and brush my finger down each word until I find what I’m looking for.
BLACK: Black symbolizes the unknown, the subconscious, mystery, danger, or death. The color invites you to dig deeper into your subconscious in order to gain a better understanding of yourself. More positively, black represents potential and possibilities. It can represent a clean or blank slate.
A cold chill tiptoes up my spine despite my earlier doubts. Black symbolizes the subconscious. Is that what Dev and the Nocturna are—my subconscious? Skimming back over the text, my eyes flutter over the words danger and death, and I quickly look ahead, trying not to dwell on whether they correlate to my dreams.
I peruse randomly through the book, attempting to stay as lighthearted as possible about this whole thing, when I pause on a word that instantly brings up a familiar image. As I read over the definition, my heart rate accelerates.
TREES: Trees in your dream symbolize new hope, growth, desire, knowledge, and life. They also imply strength, safety, and stability. You are concentrating on your own self-development and individualization.
The tree is where I first arrived in my dreams—I fell toward it like a beacon. How many times have I woken up underneath it? When I was still drunk, before Dev pushed me off the cliff? Did I wake up there because it was protecting me, bringing me stability in that strange place? I read the last part again. “You are concentrating on your own self-development and individualization.”
Dev’s words come back to me fast and hard. You’re so much more than you think. For a quick moment I question the truth about whether this place could actually be real. But anyone can read meaning into these definitions.
Frustrated and slightly ashamed that I even entertained the idea, I shut the book, yet my mind refuses to stop. It keeps racing forward, turning and weaving through memories of my dreams, flipping over rocks to find something, anything, that will allow me to put this to rest.
Then, like a tractor-trailer, it hits me—the last conversation I had with Dev. The name he said. I quickly grab my laptop and search for the meaning of the word Terra. Dozens of search results pop up. Shit. I click on the first one. It’s a Latin forum, and my heart squeezes when I read one of the posts.
“Terra is the Latin word for land.”
I hesitate before typing in my next search, guessing on spelling. I swallow as the search results fill the page, and click on the first link. My eyes widen as I read, and I push away from my computer, my hands shaking. I couldn’t have made this up. I don’t know a lick of Latin! How could I have imagined those words together?
“Somniorum is Latin for of the dreams.”
The image of Dev sitting with me by the tree hazily materializes. His words, “Terra Somniorum. Translated, it means Land of Dreams.”
I fall to my bed, my legs too wea
k to hold my weight. What’s happening? How could I have made that up? I put my head in my hands and push my hair off my face. I can’t breathe. There’s no oxygen left for me to breathe. My eyes scan the room for a way out, and all I see is the door. Grabbing my keys, I hurry to escape, noticing it’s becoming hard to swallow, as if I’m experiencing an allergic reaction to my very thoughts. I can’t get outside fast enough.
Cold quickly sweeps around my body as I exit my building. I forgot a coat. Despite the discomfort, I suck in a breath, allowing the cool air to clear my head as I descend my stoop, running head-on into someone.
“Oh! I’m so sorry. I—”
“Molly?” Jared steadies me, looking startled and confused, his dark-blond hair swaying in the cold breeze. “Where are you going?”
“Jared! Oh my God. Sorry, I didn’t see you.” I back up a step. This new situation sends a different shock through my body, and the spiraling thoughts that brought me running outside get forced into a dark corner of my mind. I rub the sides of my arms, attempting to bring heat into them.
“Are you okay?” he asks, pulling me into his warm body, and I welcome the embrace. Smelling his familiar cologne and feeling his strong arms gives me a sense of security that I didn’t realize I was craving. “You seem on edge. Did something happen?”
I rest my cheek on his chest. “No, I’m okay. I just needed some fresh air. I was feeling cramped in my apartment.” I thought that was a better answer than saying, “I just had a panic attack because I was doing research on dreams I’ve begun to think are real.” Yeah, a much better answer. I take in a deep breath again, clearing away any last remnants of my anxiety attack. “What are you doing here?” I ask.
His brows turn in. “We had plans tonight, remember?”
Shit. It’s Monday. I’m getting the days mixed up. This isn’t good. “Oh yeah! No, I remember. Sorry, I’ve been having one of those days and lost track of time.”
Jared narrows his eyes. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, really. I just needed a little fresh air, that’s all.” I force a smile.
He only looks slightly convinced. “Okay, well, I was going to suggest we order in again, but if you’re feeling cramped, we can go out to eat.” He removes his brown leather jacket and drapes it around my shoulders. I must have been shivering more than I thought. The leftover body heat inside his coat wraps around me like a best friend.
I think about being in a restaurant and immediately know I can’t handle so many people and all the noise. My nerves are shot. “No, I think ordering in is perfect.”
I start to turn into my building, when he grabs my hand, stopping me. “Molly?” he says softly.
“Yeah?” What have I done now?
“Hi,” he says and brings me in for a kiss.
At first I’m too caught off guard to enjoy it, but once my mind settles, heat expands in my lungs and desire spreads out all the way to my fingertips. A familiar feeling of reacting this way to another man pokes my brain, but I quickly shove it away. Encircling my arms around Jared’s neck, I stand on my toes so I can be more level with him. He quickly grabs my waist and places me one step above him on the stairs. His grin is apparent as we kiss, and I can’t help but smile back. This man knows exactly what I need. He slowly pulls away, locking his gaze with mine. A pleased expression lights up his face.
“Well, hello,” I finally return.
He gives me another quick kiss. “Okay, that’s all I needed. We can go in now.”
I laugh. “Glad I can be of service.”
He gives my butt a little love tap, which gets me scurrying up the stairs.
Once back in my apartment, I quickly shut my laptop that’s glaring at me like a possessed demon on my bed and grab a bunch of menus from my menu drawer—an obligatory drawer for every New Yorker. Jared slips his jacket off my shoulders and replaces its warmth with his own by wrapping his arms around me.
“What are you in the mood for?” I display the plethora of takeout options.
“How about pizza?” He nibbles the side of my ear.
I squirm under the ticklish feeling. “I could do pizza.”
“Perfect.”
Jared walks to the bathroom. “I can do plain or the works, you decide. Oh, but nothing with garlic. I’ve got plans for you later,” he says before closing the door on his mischievous face. I smile but at the same time feel a little nervous. Jared and I haven’t been intimate since the accident, and a certain other man enters my mind, filling me with a weird guilt.
Get a grip. Nothing happened with Dev, and even so, he’s just a dream! Jared is real and handsome and the one I’m dating. More importantly, why the hell am I comparing Jared to someone who doesn’t exist?
“So, what do we want to watch?” Jared asks, walking back into the room.
I jump, realizing I’ve been holding my phone to call the pizza place this entire time, lost in thought. “Uh, I don’t really have a preference…anything really.” I start to punch in the number to the restaurant.
So far in the action movie we’re watching, there have been three explosions and four fight scenes, and I’m pretty sure only forty-five minutes have passed. This is my kind of film.
Jared and I laugh at the amazingly corny one-liners that are uttered before the protagonist beats up his enemies, and I smile as I catch Jared saying the lines along with the movie.
“Only seen this once, eh?” I tease.
“Once in the theater maybe,” he admits sheepishly. I begin to laugh but am cut short by Jared pulling me to lie underneath him. “Are you laughing at me?” he says in a horrible Goodfellas imitation.
“What if I am?”
“Well, I think I can do some things to wipe that smile off your face,” he says gruffly before he puts his lips to mine.
“What about the movie?” I mumble between kisses. “Don’t you think it’s important that I find out how it ends?”
Jared pins both my hands above my head and moves his lips to my neck. “He kills them all and gets the girl.”
“You ruined it!”
“I’m pretty sure I know how to make it up to you.” He renders me incapable of stringing together any sort of coherent response as he moves his lips with mine. He lets go of my hands, and I hungrily move them to his strong back, digging my nails into his shirt. Moaning, he grips the back of my neck, shifting his body weight down and fully encompassing my form.
All the days and nights of teasing me and the presence of another man ignites a fire in my gut, making any rational thought go out the window. The basic primal instinct of wanting this man floods my senses, and I reach my hands under his shirt, feeling his hard, toned back and warm skin.
He returns my move with his own intrusion of hand to skin and cups his palm around my breast, his tongue sweeping, his lips softly arousing. He rolls me on top, feeling his way across my stomach, and I remove my shirt, delighted in the way Jared’s eyes travel over my exposed skin before they go back to me. I hold his gaze as I reach around and unclasp my bra.
He sucks in a breath and bites down on his bottom lip. “I will never get sick of this sight.” His hazel eyes mix with lust and a delicate sweetness. I smile down at his handsome face and lean over, kissing him.
Jared and I have had sex before, but for some reason this seems like our first time all over again. I’m not sure if it’s because I’ve felt like a new person ever since my accident or because I’m starting to regard him in a different light. All I know is that I’m starting to like him more than I originally had or intended.
We both lie skin to skin while Jared studies me with adoration and a glimmer of something I know I must hold in my own eyes. He gently bends down, claiming my lips, sending a whole new swirling heat to pass through my brain. As I close my eyes, a weird flash of another man lying on top of me appears. The bluest gaze swimming with a desirous storm and dark features rest just inches from my face. I gasp and move my head to the side. Jared doesn’t take notic
e but instead sees that as a cue to kiss my neck. I stare off into my apartment as Jared warms my body, but another man’s face fills my mind.
How can I think about Dev at a time like this? A small anger sweeps through my skin at the fact that he can disrupt me even when I’m the most distracted. I reach for my bedside drawer, finding what I need to return me to the now, and push the foil packet into Jared’s hands. I concentrate on his touch, his taste, before relaxing into his body and getting completely lost in his arms.
—∞—
Jared spoons me perfectly to him, slowly gliding his fingers over my bare arm.
“You’re amazing,” he whispers in my ear.
I turn, catching his warm hazel eyes, open for me to explore. “So are you.” I tip my head up, kissing his lips. Jared suddenly moves from the covers. “Where are you going?” I whine as the absence of his body lets cool air come into the bed. My annoyed face quickly transforms into a grin as I watch his deliciously toned naked rear walking across my apartment.
“I have something for you.” He fumbles with his clothes before reaching into his jacket pocket and taking out a small box.
I regard it cautiously as he brings it over, ducking back into the sheets and bringing my body close to his. “What is it?”
“Well, usually when you open a gift, you find out,” he says with a laugh.
I shoot him an annoyed glare as I reposition myself to face him and remove the lid. My breath catches. “Jared! You didn’t have to do that.” I lift a silver charm bracelet out of the box—an exact replica of the one he gave me on my birthday.