Stirring Attraction(22)
“Dominic—”
“Thanks for the coffee.” He lifted the mug off the table and held it up in the air as if toasting her. “I’m going to grab a refill on the way out. That way you don’t need to worry about the dark tonight. I’m going to watch over you. And after two cups of this brew, nothing will get past me. I promise.”
“YOU RUINED EVERYTHING!”
The voice echoed in her ears. The hot breath touched her neck.
Someone screamed. The high-pitched sound reverberated against the walls.
Walls?
She was outside, her body pressed up against pavement. He was on top of her. Breathing . . . touching . . . cutting . . . screaming . . .
No, she was screaming.
But someone had spoken. And she knew that voice. She’d heard it before. Somewhere. Outside of her nightmares. A room filled with desks . . .
No, that was her classroom. She was outside.
Bang. Bang. Bang!
The knocking pulled her back. She wasn’t outside. But this couldn’t be her classroom.
Her hand reached out. The surface was soft. Familiar. She opened her eyes.
My bedroom.
Another nightmare.
“Lily?”
She pushed herself into an upright position on her queen bed. She’d kept the wallpaper, her old dresser, but she’d upgraded from her twin mattress and metal frame after her mother passed away. Not that it mattered now. She slept alone. And half the time, she closed her eyes and returned to that familiar stretch of pavement in the park.
“Coming.” Her voice sounded hoarse. She stumbled toward the bedroom door and made her way down the hall. She paused in the entryway and glanced down at her dress. She’d fallen asleep in her clothes again. It was as if pajamas offered a one-way ticket to an attack she couldn’t escape. But in her clothes, she could run.
“Lily, I need you to open the door now or I’m breaking it down,” her ex-boyfriend turned bodyguard growled.
She released the chain and flipped the deadbolt. Then she opened the door a crack. “You’re up early.”
“I never went to sleep.” He turned his head as if trying to peer into her house and scan for bad guys. “I thought I heard a scream.”
“Oh?” Her grip tightened on the door. “It must have been your sleep-deprived imagination. I didn’t . . . I didn’t hear it.”
He studied her and for a second she wondered if he could see into her thoughts.
“My mistake,” he said. “Thought maybe you were calling me in for a morning cup of coffee.”
“I was sound asleep.”
His brow furrowed. “Did you—”
“I slept great. Thanks for asking,” she said before he uttered the word “nightmare.” “But I haven’t started the coffee yet. Give me ten minutes and I’ll invite you in.”
She slammed the door and turned the bolt. Then she closed her eyes and rested her forehead against the painted white door.
“Take your time, Lil,” he murmured from the other side. “I’ll be right here.”
She stepped back and headed down the hallway. In her room, she stripped off her dress and tossed it aside. She pulled out the top dresser drawer and rummaged through until she found a pair of flannel pajamas.
Two minutes later, she returned to the front door, turned the lock, and held it open. “On second thought,” she said, “I’ll let you brew your own.”
“Thanks.” He walked into the entryway and paused, scanning her up and down. “Cold last night?”
She looked down at the fabric covered with dancing penguins and polar bears. “No. But I love the pattern.”
He nodded as if storing that fact for another day, maybe another life when he’d need to pick out a gift for her . . . and settle on clothes covered in arctic animals.
“What time do you need to be at Big Buck’s?” he asked as he headed for her kitchen.
“Not until eight tonight. Noah’s covering the first shift at the bar.” She followed him and opened the fridge as he reached for the coffeepot. “I’m mostly helping out when it gets busy.”
“I called my dad last night.” He poured the grounds into the reusable filter. And she pulled a carton of orange juice from the middle shelf. The actions felt ordinary and comfortable.
Almost as if I wake up screaming every day and he rushes in for breakfast. After spending the night in his car. . .
“And how is our police chief?” she asked as she poured the juice.
“Fine.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him press the start button.
“My dad offered to make us breakfast,” he continued. “While he cooks, I can take a look at the file from your attack.”