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So either she’d slept with him out of rebellion or out of sabotage. Either way, it worked. They’d seen each other a few more times, but no sparks had ignited, and he stopped calling. She’d never dreamed about Alan, though, that was for sure. Especially a sex dream like this. Was she just sex-starved? Or was it something about Galen in particular?
Those thoughts ran through her mind as the first light of dawn filtered into the cave. She opened her eyes and realized that her and Galen’s sleeping bags were spooned together. He was on his side, his back to her, while she snuggled up to him for extra warmth.
No wonder she was so content here in this cocoon of a cave. The cold air nipped at her face and the top of her head. She should reach for her hat, but she didn’t want to pull her arms out of her cozy warm bag.
What a random, surreal place to wake up in the morning. She was in the middle of the wilderness with someone she hadn’t known very well before yesterday. But even stranger—she felt energized, alive. And she knew a lot more about Galen than she had when they’d started this trip.
She thought back to all the times she’d interacted with Galen, before she even knew his name. Once he’d bought a muffin from her at Sunburn Fest, when she was manning the school’s fundraising stand. She’d wondered who he was—he stood out—and why he hadn’t said anything beyond, “how much?”
Once she’d seen him at school, come to think of it, when he’d been walking down the hall with Zack Cooper. She’d recognized him from the market, and started to smile at him, but he’d abruptly turned down a side hall as if to avoid her.
Well, he couldn’t avoid her now, because she was right next to him, wide awake, and feeling extra adventurous. She’d survived her first ever night in the wilderness and that felt amazingly empowering. No one could say she was just a spoiled suburban girl anymore. She’d done something she’d never even thought about doing before, and she’d liked it. The sky was the limit. There were so many adventures to be had.
And it was all thanks to the man lightly snoring next to her.
She snuggled closer to him, so her knees rested against the backs of his, and his rear end pressed against her pelvis. He was so warm. His body heat relaxed her, made her muscles feel almost liquid. His shoulder-length black hair brushed against her nose. It smelled like the forest, like adventure…like excitement.
She hoped he never cut his hair. Maybe some people would find it too messy, or too in need of a pair of scissors. But she liked the way it flowed from his head and tumbled over his shoulders. She found it beautiful. Even the bushy beard didn’t bother her any more.
At first she’d thought that it hid too much of his face, and therefore made him look suspicious. But now that she knew him better, she saw it differently. He was on the shy side, a little bit vulnerable. The beard protected him. It wasn’t so much that he was hiding, as that he was choosing what to reveal and to whom.
He’d revealed quite a bit to her, including his incredibly fit body. She’d like to see more—not just his body, but everything about him.
This might be the last chance for Storm Brenda to be free. Maybe she should make some trouble while she could.
She blew a breath of air onto the back of his head. His hair stirred, and his body gave a twitch. Uh oh, she didn’t want him to think she was a late-season mosquito. She squirmed closer against him, moving her body in a sensual, provocative way.
He shifted, stretched, then gave a groan. Or was it a gasp? “Where are you taking him? Stop!”
Oh dear, he must be having a bad dream. Gently, she shook him awake. “Galen. It’s okay. You’re just dreaming.”
He sat bolt upright, his bare chest emerging from the sleeping bag. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
“Everything’s fine. You were having a dream.”
He pressed the heels of his hands over his eyes, then shook his head as if to clear it. “Sorry.”
“No need to apologize. Do you want to talk about it?”
He was quiet for a long moment. In the morning light, his cheekbones stood out against his beard. Maybe he really could be a model.
“It’s a dream about something that happened when I was a kid. I’ve never understood it, so I think my sleeping mind tries to figure it out.” He shot her an arrested sidelong glance. “Maybe you could help.”
“Me? How?”
“You write those crime thrillers. Here’s what I know. A man came to our apartment and dragged my father away at knifepoint. After already stabbing him, or at least someone did. They told me never to say anything. The next thing I heard was that my father was in prison. And that’s it. He’s out now, but I know nothing else.”
She stared at him in the pearly cold light of the cave. “You’re saying that actually happened to you? How old were you?”
“Eleven. I, uh…more or less blocked it out until recently. Then I started dreaming about it. You’re only the second person I’ve told. If you put that in a book, what would the whole story be?”
She was torn between feeling flattered that he would confide in her, and unsure of what to say. “I can speculate, but that’s about it. That must have been terrifying for you.”
“Like I said, I blurred it out. But yeah, I guess it was.”
He still seemed to want more from her, so she pictured the scenario he’d described. “The fact that he swore you to silence instead of telling you to get help, that seems significant.”
His expression lightened. “God, you’re right. Does that mean he knew the guy? Maybe he was working with him? I know my father did some shady things.”
