by Lori Wilde
My face flushed. “You knew about that?”
Grace rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. It was as obvious as daylight. Clearly, you’d been intimate.”
I opened my mouth, but she held up a hand. “I am not interested in the sordid details. Suffice it to say, were you any other candidate, you would not have made it to a second interview. But here you are.”
I slumped back in my chair and briefly closed my eyes. “Yes. Here I am.”
“I no longer question how or why, only what I can do next. I learned that with my daughter and with Troy.”
Something tightened in my stomach at being reminded of her daughter and Troy. I stole a glimpse of Celeste’s photo and noticed there was another one next to it. A duplicate of the one I’d seen in Troy’s room last year. A crazy irrational pang of jealously sparked in me as Grace’s words filtered back into my awareness.
“You can give a parched man water but cannot make him drink. Not even if it will save his soul. And that is ultimately what we’re battling for, Nora. Make no mistake, this demon is coming for it. Stake your hold on this world and refuse to let go, no matter what.”
“No matter what.” I closed my eyes and immediately pictured Troy. He was as good an anchor as any. He was real, and we had a genuine mutual connection. I loved Granddad and Kenzie, of course, and I couldn’t imagine ever willingly leaving them behind—but I could offer Troy something I’d once only trusted to Darcy. My heart.
Those were the thoughts I left Grace’s office with, heading for what remained of my shift at the theater, but somehow the closer I got to the theater, the more distant they became. Instead of feeling calmed by her words, I felt agitated and stressed.
Lack of sleep can make people do crazy things. Act out in irrational ways. That’s what the small sensible voice in my head told me as I stomped my way toward the theater where Troy was setting up.
He looked up as though he sensed me coming, the way animals sense an impending storm. Then he dismissed the two guys working alongside him—saving them from my Bermuda triangle scale mood—and climbed to his feet.
I stormed up the steps of the stage, stopped dead in front of him, and planted my fists on my hips.
I pressed my hands to my face, hiding my eyes.
“Hey, what? What’s wrong?”
I shook my head, angry words strangled in my throat.
“Don’t tell me it’s nothing.” His voice dropped an octave. “Hey. Look at me.” Grabbing my arms, he pulled them from my face. Then he drew back with a puckered brow when he spotted my bruise. “What the hell happened?”
Alarm rang in his words. But I was too deep in my sleep-deprived fury. “Grace thinks I need hypnosis to put an end to my dreamwalking. I told her she was crazy.”
He frowned in confusion. “So she hit you?”
“This is all just a joke to you, isn’t it? To you. To her.”
“Nora,” he spoke calmly. “Why don’t you tell me what’s really going on here, instead of acting crazy.”
He reached out to touch my cheek, but I folded my arms and stepped back. “Don’t call me that,” I snapped.
He studied me, clearly puzzled by the anger on my face. “Hey,” he said softly. Then his voice took on a hard edge as he focused on my bruise. “Tell me what happened to your cheek, Nora. Did someone hurt you?”
Yes. But I didn’t know how to say that without breaking apart again, so instead I lashed out.
“How about you tell me something. Did Celeste like s’mores too, or was she more of a meat ’n’ potatoes first, kind of girl.” I spat the words at him. I didn’t mean for it to come out the way it did. But visions of that picture of her in his arms had been simmering under my skin ever since I remembered it. I couldn’t hold it back.
He sucked in a sharp breath as he dropped his hands. His jaw clenched. “What did you say?” Derision dripped from his words.
“Celeste. You dated right? Almost engaged? You must remember something about her likes and dislikes before she up and jumped into her dream world. Before you pushed her into it.”
His face blanched, and his hands clenched into fists at his sides.
I took a step back as the full weight of what I’d said hit me like a cold slap in the face.
“Why would you say that?” The words were detached, like his voice, and his expression dropped. I knew I’d hurt him. I was out of control throwing my pain around like it was confetti. Yet I couldn’t seem to rein it in. My anger burned like I was sunbathing in hell. “I saw her picture. The one in your room, remember, same as the one in Grace’s office? She told me all about why her daughter went missing. Maybe if you’d loved her more, she wouldn’t have gone with her monster.” And maybe if you loved me more, you could save me from my monster.
I saw his eyes narrow, then darken with pain, and I immediately regretted everything my sleepless rant was implying. It was as if I was saying I was jealous over his past relationship with a girl who’d gone missing. What is wrong with you, Nora?
I clenched both hands in my hair, squeezing my eyes shut. “You know what, let’s drop it. Forget I brought it up.”
He grabbed my arm as I walked past him. “Nora...”
It was all he said. Just my name. He let go of my arm, but it was evident he wasn’t going to drop it.
I sighed. “We don’t have to do this right now. It’s fine. I’m fine. Sorry. I’m really sorry.” I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror backstage. Hair sticking out in every direction. My baby-blue Hello Kitty jammies were inside out, and I had one pant leg tucked into my boot and one out. I looked like someone who should be locked in a room and fed through a tube. I don’t even know why I’d come here really, except everything that had happened had caused a pain in my chest that I didn’t understand, and I had a need to lash out and cause him pain in return. I was an absolute mess. No wonder they’d signed me up for counseling.
Troy laced his fingers on top of his head. “You have to believe I had nothing to do with her disappearance, Nora.”
I nodded quickly. “I do. Of course I know, it’s just...” Just what, I laughed to myself, just that a guy in a dream hit me and blamed you for taking his imaginary life night after night. ’Cause that doesn’t sound crazy at all. “I guess I didn’t like knowing she was the girl you dreamed about night after night.” I stared at the floor, kind of hoping it would open and swallow me whole. How had I been reduced to this insecure, needy wreck? Despite everything, I was acutely aware of how intimately entangled we’d become. Our summer relationship had the depth and seriousness of years.
“Hey.” He lifted my chin gently, forcing me to meet his gaze. “I have never. Ever. Felt more connected to anyone than I do with you. Celeste was never the girl of my dreams. That was the problem—she wasn’t you.”
I frowned a little. “You mean—”
“I mean I’ve been dreaming of you for years, Nora. It’s like I’ve known you long before we met. And I couldn’t stay with her because I knew I had to find you.” He leaned in, peering deep into my eyes as my heart beat faster in my chest. His hands shifted to my shoulders, and he pulled me close.
“Do you hear me, Nora?” he said, giving me a slight shake.
“It. Was. You.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Troy and I had been standing motionless outside my cottage in the thick silence between us for what felt like forever. Until I couldn’t take the quiet a moment longer…as if the weight of it on my chest grew any heavier, I’d have no air left to scream with. And I wanted to. I wanted to scream. To cry. To let go. To give him even a sliver of the openness and honesty he’d given to me. So I did the only thing I could do, said the most honest thing I could. I told him, in full detail, about Darcy.
He’d walked me back to my cabin, and we’d stayed there on the front steps, talking well into the night. By the warm streaks of red painting the sky, it was nearly dawn. Kenzie was still in bed, and I could only assume she had Steve in there with her too, which mean
t I should urge Troy to leave before he was put in the position of having to ignore yet another staff infraction. But I wasn’t ready.
I leaned against the railing on the porch staring into the vibrant hues of morning painting the horizon. “How could I have been dreaming of him, while you...you were dreaming about me?” I asked him, still unhinged by all of it.
Troy’s arms wrapped around me from behind, holding me close.
“It just kind of feels like a betrayal somehow.” I shook my head knowing how that sounds, and not entirely clear on just who I was betraying.
He held me impossibly tighter as his lips moved to my ear. “I understand what you’re going through, Nora,” he whispered, then he kissed my ear.
It still amazed me what the sound of his voice could do to my heart and my body. Almost immediately, I felt the pressure drain away. Every part of me wanted to touch him, wanted him to touch me.
He squeezed me tighter, his palm pressing against my stomach, holding me close. My hand covered his as I leaned into his warmth. I felt his mouth on my shoulder, and his lips trailed soft kisses along my neck, my earlobe, spreading heat through my whole body. My hand reached back, feeling for him, and I burrowed my fingers into his hair. His mouth covered the side of my neck with kisses, growing more frantic as I pressed myself into his body. Our breathing grew more rapid and shallow as I twisted in his arms to face him. Reaching up, I cupped his face as he leaned in. Just as his lips were about to meet mine, my phone rang.
Reluctantly, I answered, then faced him. “Apparently, there’s a puppet emergency.” I smiled. “Annie has the stomach flu, so I have to take her shift.”
He gave a soft chuckle. “Perfect timing,” he rasped.
As he was about to leave, I grabbed his shirt and pulled him back to me. Stretching up onto my toes, I kissed him. His mouth opened, accepting mine, and I let my tongue explore his, deepening our kiss. When I pulled away, he gave me a sultry grin. “That is actionable,” he said in a tone that was as sexy as it was cute. Sighing, I stepped back and took some much-needed breaths of air. I didn’t really know what any of this meant. Or why it was happening, but in this moment, all I needed to know was that he was here. That he was real and not just another impossible dream.
As the weeks slipped by, my bruise faded; Darcy hadn’t returned either in my dreams or my waking life, and my summer had taken on a new theme. Letting stuff go. I was getting a lot of practice in the art of letting go. Humiliation. Regret. All of it. Amazing what one was capable of when not totally sleep-deprived.
Troy and I seemed to always find our way back to one another. We were together every day in some way or another, either working side by side on projects or teaching classes. Then again in the evenings by the campfire or sequestered in his cabin. Communication was unavoidable since he refused to let things like insecurities, emotions, and misunderstandings come between us. I was growing comfortable sharing more and more of myself with him. We’d settled into our discreet relationship, even if neither of us knew where it would lead, if anywhere, beyond the forest walls of Wanderlust.
As we made our way back to my cabin early this morning, Troy leaned in to kiss me. His lips pressed to mine, soft yet firm, yielding yet relentless. We pulled apart for a split second to make sure we weren’t seen. Then he dipped his head, his hands in my hair, to draw my mouth back to his—but he stopped short.
A young girl from the junior camp program stopped in front of us. It was rare to see anyone out this early on a weekend morning. We froze, like two teenagers caught making out. I was doing the walk of shame, without the benefit of the shame part.
I peered down at the young girl. She was barefoot and still in her pj’s.
“What are you doing out so early, Hannah?” Troy asked. He knew every kid here by name, and there were a lot of them.
She rubbed her eyes. “Couldn’t sleep.”
I could relate. Once again, I was reminded of the good work this school did for these children. They were safe here, at least from the external sufferings that had caused their nightmares to begin with. The rest would hopefully get sorted out in time.
Her eyes shifted back and forth between us. “Are you two in love?”
“Depends what you mean by in love,” I answered without missing a beat.
Troy’s brows furrowed as he glanced at me sideways.
“Do you mean in love in general, like are we in love with other people—or in love specifically with each other? Because the answer would be different for each question,” I said. One thing I’d learned about children was they were easily diverted from their original train of thought.
She frowned, wrinkling her little nose, then looked up at Troy. “Have you been together all night?” she asked, her head tilted to the side.
Clearly, she wasn’t like most children. I arched a brow and gave Troy a pointed look that said you’re up.
He cleared his throat. “No, Hannah. We’re old friends. We go way back. Right, Nora?”
I nodded vigorously. “Oh yeah. Way back.”
The girl, Hannah, studied us a moment longer, then her face brightened. “Okay, good. Then you should meet my big brother ’cause he needs a new girlfriend.”
Troy snickered, and I elbowed him in the ribs. I leaned down. “Is that right? And how old is your brother?” I asked, noticing that Troy was no longer laughing—and enjoying that fact.
“He’s thirteen.”
Straightening, I nodded. “I see. And what’s wrong with the girlfriend he has now?”
“She smells weird. And you always smell nice.”
I had to smile. “Thanks, Hannah. But I’m afraid I’m too old for your brother. Don’t worry though, he’ll probably get tired of her smell soon enough and find himself a new girlfriend. A nice smelling one.” I shrugged. “Maybe one that smells like roses.”
Hannah beamed. “You think? I hope so. I love roses,” she said and then shuffled back toward her cabin.
Troy pulled me to his side in another rare, out-in-the-open display that caught me off guard. “So you’re considering invitations from other men?”
“Boys,” I corrected him. “And hey, a girl’s gotta keep her options open until she’s spoken for, doesn’t she?”
“No. This girl doesn’t. ’Cause this girl is as spoken for as they come.” His arms threaded around my waist, holding me close.
I laughed and wriggled my fingers. “If you wanted it, then you shudda put a ring on it.”
His expression became serious. “One day. I will. But not until—”
Voices in the distance made him drop his arm and put a little daylight between us the rest of the way to my cabin, before heading to his office.
More than anything I wanted to know what the next words out of his mouth were going to be. But I didn’t ask because the words that had come out of his mouth terrified me, just a little.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“I’m bored.”
We’d been in Troy’s atrium office for ages. What was supposed to be a five-minute stop had turned into almost an hour.
“Why don’t we just meet up later, when you’re done?” I sat at the edge of the pool, which was made to look like a pond. Only at Wanderlust Academy would the CEO have a lap pool inside his office.
“No, I’m almost finished,” he said. “And this is your class I’m adding to the curriculum. I don’t know anything about polymer clay sculpting. It’s all on you. If you’re going to be teaching it here next summer, you need to tell me what to add.”
“Fine,” I sighed. Next summer seemed like forever away, so did we have to do this now? I appreciated his enthusiasm, and knowing we’d get to spend time together a year from now was great, but it was cutting into our day together. Between us, we only had one day off at the same time, when we could hide out at his place, undetected and uninterrupted. Any other day, working or not, one of us, usually him, would be missed. And if both of us were missed at the same time on too many occasions…well, let’s just
say the rumors would fly, and the board would get an earful.
I’d already come up with a description, course load, and supply list, and that only took seven minutes. The rest was him fighting a losing battle with technology, cursing his beloved Macbook every five minutes.
I flipped through another one of his science books. “What is it with you and this quantum stuff?” I asked, clapping it shut.
His eyes flicked to me briefly. “You must have heard of the entanglement theory?”
I squinted at him. “Entanglement theory? Never heard of it. Enlighten me.”
“It’s when two or more objects are described with reference to each other, even though the individual objects may be spatially separated. This leads to correlations between observable physical properties of the systems that are stronger than any classical correlations,” he said.
“Yeah, enlighten me in English please.”
He smiled. “Okay, loosely it implies we’re connected by an invisible thread that binds us to another even in the unseen. Through time and space and dimensions.”
“So hypothetically, you’re saying we’re bound to our dreams?”
“If you consider the theory that dreams aren’t dreams at all, but more like memories of some other time, or place— then sure, it could apply.”
“It’s too bizarre to consider.” Considering it was all I’d done since my first meeting with Grace, when she’d pretty much said the same thing without all the fancy lingo. Implying that Darcy could walk into my life at any time. I just never thought that if or when he did, he’d be a threat.
“You’re basically talking about bending reality,” I said.
He leaned back in his chair, contemplating that. “In New Orleans, we studied lucid dreaming, astral projection, and dreamwalking,” he said. “Lots of people claim they’re all fake. Others are respectful enough to call it a pseudo-science. But their disdain has zero impact on what these kids are living.”