Lake

 

 

I’m riding the subway.

The three girls across from me have their noses buried in their phones, so in this dream we’re not in the eighties, which is a first. I scan the faces. Sophie isn’t on the train. When we pull into the station, Grand Central is written in tile on the wall.

What is happening?

A rush of people scramble to board, but my Mentor isn’t one of them. Where is she? The doors slide open and close at each stop as we swiftly travel beneath New York City, but Sophie doesn’t appear. Did she decide to fire me? I thought our dream session went well last night.

“Lake!”

My anxiety dissipates, and I turn around. Instead of Sophie, a guy with a fade haircut and a wide smile is heading toward me. I’m doubly surprised when Orfyn leans down and gives me a quick kiss on the lips, as if it’s perfectly natural. Why does he think he has the right to kiss me? He slides in next to me and throws his arm around my shoulders.

I remove it and place it in his lap, then press myself into the wall. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought the plan was to picnic in Central Park.”

“Picnic?”

He holds up a take-out bag. “Paninis and coleslaw. Great, you brought chips.”

I follow his eyes and see barbeque kettle chips in a plastic bag on my lap that wasn’t there before. Of course. Orfyn’s strange behavior so flustered me, I forgot this is a dream. But that realization only adds to my confusion.

“Orfyn, why are you in Sophie’s dreamspace?”

He moves closer and winds a lock of my hair around his finger. “Who’s Sophie?”

“Stop it!” I tug my hair from his grasp. Why is he acting this way? “She’s my Mentor. And right now, I should be working with her in our lab. You know all this.”

“The next stop is ours,” he says.

We don’t have a stop because there is no us. I sit up straighter, and my eyes scan the newest passengers, but Sophie isn’t one of them.

“Call in sick,” he says, with a mischievous smile.

I’ll get right on that.

He stands as the train slows. “You’re coming, right?”

I can’t blow off my Mentor to picnic, especially with the person I don’t dare spend time with.

“Come on, Lake. You deserve a break. You work too hard.” His golden-green eyes hold promises of fun.

I have been putting in the hours, and I’ve never been to Central Park. Am I actually considering it?

Orfyn holds out his hand. “It’s a beautiful day, and I promise to get you back in an hour. Two, tops.”

I suppose one hour won’t interfere with my work, especially since Sophie is still missing for some reason.

I tentatively place my hand in his, and Orfyn pulls me up.

“This isn’t a date,” I clarify. “We’re simply eating together.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, right.” He wraps his other arm around me. “You look beautiful today.” He leans down and presses his lips against mine—and this time it’s not quick.

My mind is telling me to stop, but my body disobeys as it intensifies into a we’re-the-only-people-in-the-world kiss. His cinnamon-walnut oil scent envelops me as I lean into him, losing myself to the sensation. His lips make my body feel like it’s filled with twinkling lightning bugs. I’ve never been kissed like this before.

I jerk away. Orfyn is not my boyfriend.

And he shouldn’t be in this dream.

“This is wrong.” I dash through the subway’s closing doors.

I wake with a start. Moonlight shines through my window, and I check the time. I’ve only been asleep for an hour. I touch my lips, but they’re not swollen from Orfyn’s kisses. Because none of it was real.

I take a long, hot shower, attempting to wash away the memory of him. What just happened? How could Orfyn appear in my dream? And where was Sophie?

I return to bed, but each time I close my eyes, I picture Orfyn kissing me. Why was I dreaming about him? It should’ve been Stryker on that train. He’s the more logical choice. Except, I shouldn’t be dreaming about either one of them. My purpose is to work with Sophie, not play hooky in New York City with a boy.

After reciting the elements of the Periodic Table too many times to count, I finally drift off to sleep. I wake after seven hours. Normally, I’d be thrilled, but I’m not. I’m terrified.