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I lick my lips and try to keep my voice even. “I think we can both agree that we don’t have control over our bodies’ involuntary actions. Right?”
Davis runs his tongue over his teeth, a grave expression crinkling his forehead as he nods along with my weak justification. “Right.”
“Dreams are just a subconscious thing. Something we can’t control. Plus, it’s all harmless, right?”
His hooded eyes fall to my heaving chest, fogging over. “Right.”
I ramble on. “It’s only natural. Especially because I haven’t been with anyone since…you.” I whisper the last word, my voice trembling.
“Yeah,” he says, his voice gravelly. “I haven’t been with anyone since you, either.”
My eyebrows jump in surprise. “You haven’t?”
His stare locks on mine. “I haven’t.”
I’ve had this story scripted out in my head. A story about Davis and other women. A story about him enjoying their curves and provoking their pleasure and losing himself in their bodies the way he used to lose himself in mine. For four years, this story has driven me crazy…And now he’s telling me that I was wrong?
If this were any other man, I’d call bullshit. But this is Davis. I don’t question him. Somehow, I know he’s telling the truth. I can see it in the silvery flecks in his gray eyes.
There’s a beat of silence, and then Davis questions me in a low, rumbling tone. “What do you dream about me?”
“What…?” My face burns hot all over and I’m grateful for the way my bangs obscure my eyes.
Despite my embarrassment, he presses forward, demanding an answer. “What do you dream about me, Alana?”
The humming tingle at my core grows more insistent. I squeeze my thighs together. “I…I dream about us…”—Fucking? Screwing like bunny rabbits?—“making love…”
His Adam’s apple bobs and his silver-gray eyes scorch the distance between us. “I dream about that, too.”
I squeeze my thighs tighter. Goddamn.
“But dreams mean nothing,” I spit out quickly.
“Right…” he agrees even though his stare says something different.
“And besides, we’re going to get out of here soon and get to the wedding. And then none of this will even be an issue.”
Davis nods, not too convincingly, his eyes back on my mouth. “Yeah.”
Everything in my body is telling me to just fucking jump on him. Instead, I scoot my chair an inch back. “So really, we don’t even need to talk about this…”
When I say that, his expression goes icy cold. “Yeah, we don’t need to talk about it,” Davis parrots back. His eyes snap back to his plate.
I button my cardigan all the way up, instinctually trying to protect myself against the renewed chill that sweeps in and chases the sexual heat right out the window.
By the time Jimmy and Rainbow reappear in the dining room, I’m mindlessly shoving my cold eggs around my plate and Davis is stirring too much sugar into his third cup of coffee.
“That was Layla from down the road,” Rainbow tells us. “Such a sweet girl. She just had the cutest baby boy with her boyfriend, Ansel.”
Jimmy grunts judgmentally. Rainbow elbows him in the side.
“Theyareplanning to get married”—her nose scrunches up—“sometime in the near future. Anyway, Layla said she noticed an unfamiliar Jeep in my yard so she just came over to see if I had guests in town for the spring chakra revival ceremony. It’s happening over the next few days.” She smiles brightly, her eyes sweeping between Davis and me.
“What’s this spring chakra revival ceremony?” I ask. Ziggy mentioned it on the phone yesterday.
Jimmy gripes, looking unimpressed. “Just a three-day hippie bonfire that clogs up the town once a year.” Wow. That’s the most words I’ve ever heard the man say at one time.
“It’s more than just a bonfire,” Rainbow corrects him good-naturedly. “It’s an internal cleansing of the heart and mind. A fresh beginning of sorts. There’s great food, music, dancing.” Her beaming eyes bounce between Davis and me. She’s so excited. “I’d love for you two to come.”
