- RAYA -
Dex rubs his chin, gazing at as he considers my question, and then sothing happens and his eyes drop to the floor with a shy smile. This physically strong man... so impressive by appearance... and I think I’ve made him blush.
"I shouldn’t have asked that," I say quickly, folding my hands back together in my lap. "I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking."
"No, it’s a fair question," he chuckles. "I just... I don’t rember my dreams. If I even have any, that is. My mother died several years ago, and afterward I would have the worst nightmares all the ti. I wasn’t sleeping at all. I was afraid to sleep, actually."
He stands from where he was still crouched in front of , squeezing my knee gently like it’s reassurance that he is not leaving—I haven’t scared him off—and then he returns to the chair he was in.
"I’m sorry to hear that," I swallow, feeling the edges of that abyss start to yawn back toward again at the ntion of death.
"Thank you, Raya."
Dex’s voice is deep and sincere and knowing, and now I understand where the empathy cos from. He lost his mother, and it was traumatic.
There is also this other thing that happens when he says my na. I can feel it like a physical tug in the center of my belly, keeping from falling into that abyss of despair. His voice is so familiar. It’s because I know him... even though I don’t know him.
And Dex obviously isn’t having wild sex dreams about . Or if he is, he doesn’t rember them. So that isn’t the connection between us.
Thankfully he didn’t ask if I’m having dreams about him, because then I would have to lie. And I’m a terrible liar.
"If I promise to close my eyes, will you put the gown on? I don’t want the nurse mad at ," he tries, teasing and yet serious at the sa ti.
"Oh." I look at the garnt, having forgotten all about it. I hate these things with a passion. "I guess."
Dex makes a dramatic show of covering his eyes with a hand and turning to face the corner. Despite the fact that the numbness of whatever panicked state I was in has now mostly burned away and every part of my body is finally starting to hurt, I can’t help but smile. He looks like a little kid, and it’s adorable.
"Ow, don’t make laugh," I groan, feeling the physical toll of the accident finally roaring to life.
"How am I making you laugh? I’m not doing anything," he chuckles, starting to turn around and then rembering and continuing to face the corner.
"Fine, don’t make smile. Things are hurting now."
He doesn’t reply this ti, and I start to remove my clothes—realizing at once that I’m still wearing his jacket, and it makes my heart swell... even more than before. How is he this sweet? I don’t understand it at all. But as I’m folding his jacket and placing it on the other chair, I’m faced with this reality: Dex is a master of seduction in my dreams and achingly sweet in real life. And how I’m supposed to keep myself from falling head over heels for a guy like that, I have no clue.
"Are you doing okay?" He asks without turning around or removing his hand. "Don’t fall over. If you need help, let know."
"I am managing. Thank you. I will not be falling over." But now that I’m moving and stretching and able to really look myself over, I’m definitely in worse shape than I thought. There are bruises everywhere, especially on my abdon. I have to bite my lip to hold back whimpers and groans, and by the ti the stupid gown is on, I’m exhausted and finally resigned to the truth that I do need to be here after all.
"Done," I sigh and climb back onto the bed, grateful that this gown has snaps along the sides instead of ties down the back that would be more difficult to close and far more revealing.
Sothing tells Dex wouldn’t be peaking anyway. He has every opportunity right now to be less than a gentleman. I an, I basically implied that I’m dreaming about him by asking if he’s dreaming about , and he didn’t return the question to ask directly about it. Instead, he is only being sweet and comforting.
"So how were you able to forget your dreams?" I ask, reaching to pull the bed sheet over my legs and grimacing at how it hurts to do even that. "I may need so help with that." When the question cos out, it’s ant to be referring to what happened today. But then I think of my notebook at ho. I could definitely use so help with those dreams, too.
"I’m not sure. I started writing them down, and for a long ti that helped." He leans forward on his knees and looks up at , and hopefully I’m not appearing as shocked as I feel to hear that he did the sa thing. "One day, they just stopped."
I stare at him for a long mont, stunned. He wrote down his dreams, too. I guess it’s not that weird. Lots of people do it.
"Are you okay?" He gets up suddenly and walks to my side. "You’re starting to look really pale."
"I’m fine." But even as I’m saying it, I start to feel really dizzy and have to catch myself from swaying off of the bed.
"Shit, no you’re not." Dex pushes the button for the nurse. "Hang on, Raya, okay? Why don’t you lay down so you don’t fall?"
The last thing I hear is him speaking to soone in the hall. "We need soone in here right away. She’s been bleeding internally. Now! We need soone now!"
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