“Who are you?” The words felt funny against my lips.
“Find me,” he replied, reaching up and snapping his fingers.
* * *
I shot up in bed, panicked. Wait, why am I in bed again? My chest rose and fell heavily, my hands fumbling to find the bedside lamp. Clicking the switch, I hopped out of bed and paced the floor, stunned and confused. I was positive it hadn’t been a dream, yet it was the only explanation. My brain fought to believe it’d all been my sleeping-self’s imagination.
“Gwen?”
I jerked, my eyes flashing across the room. Dorian was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed. His sunglasses were resting atop his head, his eyes light and calm.
“What are you doing?” I hadn’t meant for the question to sound as harsh as it did. Whatever had just happened had shaken me to my core. Still, it was bizarre he was just hanging out in my room while I was sleeping. Plus, I’m not a pretty sleeper. I tend to drool, snore sometimes and mange to turn my hair into something resembling what I suspect a person who’s been shocked looks like.
“I was wondering the same thing,” Dorian responded, dodging my question. “You hopped out of bed like it was filled with snakes.”
“I…uh.” I looked at the bed, and then down at myself. “It was just a dream I guess.” Sitting on the edge of the mattress, I pulled my feet up and rested them on the bed frame. The riddle the man had recited flowed through my head. If it was just a dream then why did my subconscious tell me to take it seriously?
Dorian walked over to my side of the room, stopping in front of me. I kept my eyes on the floor, my mind too occupied with trying to remember every last detail of the hallucination.
“Find me.”
“Tag, you’re it,” Dorian said, reaching a hand out and tapping my arm. “Worst game of hide-n-seek ever.”
“What?” I tugged my brain back to the present, looking up at him.
“You said ‘find me’.”
“Oh. Did I?” I hadn’t realized I said it out loud. “Nothing, never mind.” I absentmindedly waved the topic away.
The mattress squeaked when Dorian sat down beside me, his feet spaced apart as he leaned over on his elbows.
“What is going on?” He cocked his head to the side to look at me. “You’re acting like you fell through the rabbit hole.”
I scrubbed a hand over my face, hoping to erase some of the bewilderment filling my head. The dream had been something out of a fairytale, peculiar and absurd. I rolled my neck against my shoulders, trying to ease the tight muscles.
“It was so realistic, the dream. There was a man, or at least he sounded like a man. And…I don’t know, he produced this music that turned my bones to cotton and my brain to mush. We danced on the patio and I floated. He told me to find him.” I looked over at Dorian. He was watching me like I’d just told him Santa Claus had visited me.
“Sounds like a dream to me.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” I agreed. “It was just…so real.”
Silence settled over the room, both of us retreating to our thoughts. After a while I turned back to Dorian and asked, “So why are you in my room?”
“My room.”
“What?”
“This is my room,” Dorian explained. “So technically I’m where I’m supposed to be.”
This was the room Dorian put me in when I had first arrived. Now that I knew it was his personal room it felt different—intimate. A sudden thought came to me, causing my upper lip to curl in disgust.
“I seriously hope you washed these sheets before you offered your bed to me.”
Dorian chuckled, his smile soothing me a little bit. “I don’t bring women back to my place, Gwen. You’re the first female to touch the sheets.”
That was about as believable as my spiel about a bizarre man who controlled me with music.
“It’s the truth,” Dorian said answering my unspoken accusation.
A bit of aggravation snaked its way through my body. “Stop avoiding the question. Why are you in here? This place has multiple bedrooms. You could have slept in one of them.”
I could tell by the look on his face that it bothered him that I didn’t want to share a bed. There had been so many mixed signals between us that I wouldn’t blame him if he was angry with me. I’d been enjoying his company, and kisses, yet pushing him away at the same time.
“I was thinking,” he said almost hesitantly. “You were pretty upset after Aiden left.” He glanced at me. When I didn’t argue the statement he continued. “I never understood relationships. They seemed pointless and messy. But…the way you acted when he left,” he paused as if double checking whether the thoughts running through his head were correct or not. “I think I understand now.”
“You do?” Again, I didn’t mean it as harsh or skeptical as it sounded.
He nodded, sitting up straight but staring ahead instead at me. “I think I’d feel the same way if you left. If I knew I’d never see you again…it would hurt.”
The last part came out sounding more like a question than a statement. And maybe it was, maybe he wasn’t sure what being hurt felt like. I almost envied him for that. Then again, it was also sad. I watched him with amazement, wondering how he survived millennia without ever growing attached to anyone. I imagined it to be a very lonely existence.
“I’m sorry if seeing me like that upset you,” I told him. “I know you and I sort of have a thing—”
“You don’t have to apologize,” he interrupted. “But I was jealous of the feeling. I sat here while you slept wondering what it’d be like if you cared for me the way you do for him—”
“Dorian…” I wanted to tell him I did care about him, but we both knew it wasn’t on the same level he was talking about. I didn’t love him. That’s not to say I would never love him though.
“I will always care about Aiden,” I confessed. “But there were too many obstacles in our way for it to work out. I know things between us have been…confusing, but I care about you too. Just on a different level.” I regretted saying the last part as soon as it was out of my mouth. If life had a rewind button the world would be a less angry place.
“I know,” Dorian said. “And I think that’s why it’s better if we keep our relationship professional—teacher and student.” He stood, keeping his back to me. His broad shoulders were stiff, his hands curled into tight fists. “You’re the first thing I’ve wanted and not gotten.” His voice was incredulous like the idea was beyond his perception.
“If this is about sex,” I began. My lips snapped shut when he whirled around to face me. Dark angry thunderclouds filled his eyes, his mouth tugged into a livid scowl.
“That’s not who I am with you,” he bit out. “I thought you’d see that by now. I’m not just looking to explore what’s beneath your panties. I want you, all of you.” He took a step forward. “I want you to burn for me the way I do for you, for you to be consumed by the overwhelming pull I have toward you.” He shook his head as if what he was saying was completely ridiculous. “I want to be the only man your eyes see. Just as you’re the only woman mine take notice of.” A humorless smile spread across his lips, followed by an incredulous snort. “After all this time you still only see me one way. I’ll give you one thing; you never cease to surprise me.”
When the door slammed I felt it all the way through my bones. I stood frozen, my eyes glued to the space he had disappeared. This wasn’t the first time Dorian had mentioned caring about me, but his speech was different. It had substance—meaning. I’d felt his words as if he’d flung tangible items at me.
Before I knew what I was doing, my feet had carried me toward the door and down the hall. Dorian was sitting on the couch, a bottle of scotch gripped in his hand. He poured the amber liquid into a chubby glass, setting the bottle down with a hard clink. He took a short drink, wiping his mouth and swaying the glass back and forth. The scotch sloshed against the side like a sea of liquid gold.
“Just go back to bed, Gwen.”
Ignoring him, I walked around the sofa and just stood there. Everything I wanted to say was just waiting on the tip of my tongue, but the nervous breath filling my lungs were unable to push them out. I swallowed around the lump rising in my throat, flexing my fingers as I tried to get myself under control.
“How am I supposed to respond?” I mumbled to myself.
“Good night is customary.”
At least Dorian hadn’t lost his sarcastic sense of humor.
“We’ve only known each other for a month.” I crossed my arms to hide my nervousness.
Dorian took another drink, sparing me a brief glance. “Your point?”
“People don’t…it’s not that long.” I didn’t say what I wanted to, that people don’t fall in love so quickly. And if they think that they do, then they don’t realize what the word means. I needed to be careful about not using that tricky four letter word.
“I assume you’re trying to make a point.” He leaned back against the sofa, resting his glass on his knee. His complete disregard for how tough this was on me was starting to piss me off. Sure he was angry, but did he have to be so flippant about it?
“The point is, we hardly know each other.”
Dorian’s head lifted to look at me again, his eyes studying me for one long moment. A cynical smirk fell across his lips before he shook his head and took another drink, dismissing me. “Yet you allowed me to move in with you,” he commented. “Tell me, what’s the waiting period before one qualifies for that?”
My body was shaking, filled with nervous anger. “You don’t have to be a jerk just because you didn’t get your way.”
Dorian scooted into a sitting position again, lifting that damned glass to his lips again. “And you don’t have to be so naïve.”