“No, Dad, no. Please don’t go.”
She let out a gasping sob, trying to reach him as he held his arms out.
Haven. I have to go.
“Daddy, no. Please don’t leave me.”
But it was too late. He was gone.
She dropped to the ground and released the wall of tears.
“Haven. Haven, wake up.”
She shot up in bed, still crying, and turned her face into Trevor’s shoulder, wrapping her arms around someone solid, someone real.
“Shh, it’s okay, honey.”
She couldn’t even form words right then because the dream had been so vivid to her, the ache of losing her father all over again hurting so badly it made her throat close up, made her heart hurt.
Trevor didn’t even ask, just stroked her back and murmured words of comfort as he held tight to her until she cried out the anguish of loss. When the gasping sobs subsided and she had nothing left, he reached over on the nightstand and handed her a box of tissues. She blew her nose and dried her eyes.
And then he held her, not speaking until her breathing returned to normal.
She couldn’t talk about it. She hoped to God he wouldn’t ask.
Trevor pulled back, his face etched with concern. “I’m going to get you a drink. I’ll be right back. Are you going to be okay?”
She nodded.
He slid out of bed and left the bedroom, giving her a few minutes to dash into the bathroom. She flipped on the light, splashed water on her face, blew her nose a few more times, then finally looked up.
God, she looked like she’d been on an all-night bender. Her eyes were tear-stained and swollen, her nose all red, and she looked—awful. How embarrassing to have that nightmare after she and Trevor had just had a fun night together.
She should have known better than to get involved with someone. She just wasn’t ready yet. She’d opened up the emotional floodgates and look what happened.
She went back into the bedroom and threw on a pair of sweats and a tank top, then crawled on top of the covers.
Trevor came back in, still gloriously, beautifully naked. For a second, she thought about changing her mind, but refused to waver. She was making the right choice.
The only choice.
“Here, drink this.”
“Thanks.” She was ridiculously dehydrated after all that crying, so she took a few deep swallows, then set the glass aside. “I’m fine now. And actually really wiped.”
He started to climb into bed with her, but she stood. “I think I’d sleep better alone.”
He arched a brow. “I thought maybe you’d want to talk about your nightmare.”
She let out a short laugh. “That’s the last thing I want to talk about. I’d rather forget it, and get some sleep. And you probably should, too. Like, in your own bed.”
He didn’t move, just sat on the edge of the bed. “What’s wrong, Haven?”
“Nothing’s wrong. I just need to be alone.”
“Something about that dream freaked you out. You should talk about it.”
“I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to go back to sleep. And honestly, I’m not much for bedmates. Don’t take it personally.”
“So, you’re kicking me out.”
“Um . . . yes. Sorry. But it’s not you, it’s me. Really. I just know I won’t get any sleep tonight with you here. It’s just a weird quirk of mine. I hope you understand.”
Her excuse sounded incredibly lame, even to her own ears.
“Not a problem.” He grabbed his clothes and got dressed, then came to her, sliding his hands up and down her arms, generating heat despite her discomfort.
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”
“I’m fine. Thanks for the water and for . . . you know—being there. It was just a silly nightmare. Zombies or something. I don’t even remember most of it now. Honestly.” She finished it off with a shrug.
He didn’t look like he believed her. “If you’re sure.”
“Absolutely.”
“Okay. I’ll see you in the morning.”
She was already walking him to her bedroom door. “Okay.”
As soon as he left her room, she shut the door and leaned against it, tears pricking her eyes again.
Why did she throw him out? Why couldn’t she let him stay and offer her comfort? And why wouldn’t she tell him about her dream about her dad?
Because that would have required her to open up emotionally, and she needed to maintain her distance. She’d already made a mistake by having sex with him, and she couldn’t afford to get any closer to him.
It was better this way. She pulled off her clothes and climbed back into bed, which now seemed colder, bigger, and emptier without Trevor’s body to warm her, and memories of her father still lingered after her dream.