- RAYA -
A pile of boxes ets us when Dex opens the door and lets in.
"I’ll carry these to whichever room you want. I just didn’t want to choose for you," he says quickly, closing the cottage-like door behind us without shutting out the sunlight. It still streams in on every side, and I realize I’m definitely right about the main house. Because this house has distressed wood beams above and tile floors below, and it feels like we’ve stepped into another country entirely. I could almost imagine that I’m on vacation here.
"It doesn’t matter," I tell him, unable to hide the awe I feel at being in this space. "I’m just grateful to have a place to stay."
"Well you still get to decide. Co on, I’ll show you the place. This room to the side is the living room. I brought the laptop assigned for you at the office in case you do decide to stay with us," he chuckles. "The project I want you to take a look at is on there. No rush," he adds with a grin. "There’s a half bath here, and the kitchen is just this way..."
I follow him and then stop abruptly when we co to the kitchen, my heart almost leaping out of my chest when I realize that this room is familiar. This is... this is the kitchen from my dream just the other night.
Dex is still talking, showing a pantry that he has stocked with food before he turns around and sees standing there at the entryway.
"Raya, are you alright?" His eyebrows pinch and he takes a few steps back my way.
"I..." My mouth falls open and eyes dart to him. "I... yes. Yes."
"Are you sure?" Now he’s much closer to , and I can tell by the concern on his face that I’m not being convincing at all. But I just nod and bite my lip and take a step back, because I’m worried... suddenly I’m so worried.
How... how is this the exact sa kitchen from my dream? I glance up at the shelf on the open cupboard where I was reaching for sothing in that dream, and Dex follows my line of sight before he looks back my way—this ti with a much different expression.
"Raya?" He asks, his voice lower.
"Hmm?" I try to act normal but am still biting my lip, trying now to calm my heart and fix my expression to one of only innocent interest.
He takes another step closer, and my eyes widen just a little bit more. Must I truly be in this kitchen AND have Dex right here in my personal space where I can start to feel the heat of his presence? Must there be both things at the sa ti when I am to pretend that I’m not a crazy person?
"Do you recognize this kitchen?" It’s such a quiet question, like he is asking it privately with people around. But we are alone.
"No!" My eyes fly wider, and I force a bit of laughter out. "Of course not. It’s just... so beautiful."
I smile and clear my throat and walk past him into the kitchen like I’m not entirely terrified at the uncanniness of having only just been here... in this exact space. My hands have started to shake, so I place the lon Pan bag on the island and clasp them together before opening the fridge like I’m only curious.
God, he got all of the things I like—more evidence that he’s perfect.
Sothing deep begins to ache and fan out across my chest. I want to cry. This is too much—all of this, and I don’t know how to react to it. What does this an?
"Thank you so much," I say on a shaky breath and offer him a smile so that he knows I’m sincere. "You didn’t have to do all this."
"Please stop thanking ." He scrubs a hand over his face, looking a bit uneasy before he returns the smile. "But you’re welco."
I have to take a few steadying breaths before I turn to look at the rest of the house, because I have a feeling that I’m going to recognize one of the rooms in particular, and I need to prepare myself.
Instead of guiding like he was, Dex watches as I walk on toward a hallway. Maybe if I were smart, I would explore a different area first, because it looks like there is a loft bedroom upstairs. I could go that way. But my feet betray and take straight to the room where I’ve already been as if I need to prove to myself that it’s true. I’m not hallucinating. This is a real place.
Sure enough, the bedroom is exactly the sa. He carried in here. He laid on that bed, and we...
My stomach clenches when I feel him walk up behind , but this ti he doesn’t say anything. He stares at the room over my shoulder, and now I’m frozen. Because I don’t know what to say, and I don’t know how to move from this spot.
"Raya..."
"Yes?" I practically whimper, my hand clutching the doorfra. And it takes him a minute to respond.
"Should I bring your things into this room?" His breath is on my neck. He’s so close, lingering just a step behind .
I could tell him everything—confess what’s been happening to and get his reaction. Maybe it would put an end to my dreams. Or maybe Dex would look at like I’m absolutely crazy and ask to leave. I can’t risk it.
"I like the loft," I turn and smile, wiping all evidence of shock from my face—or at least, I hope so.
"You haven’t even seen the loft." One of his eyebrows arches, and a slow fire begins below my navel, because there is sothing in his eyes... sothing smoldering that I recognize.
"I know, but..." I chuckle nervously and walk past him. "I’ve alway wanted to sleep in a loft. They’re so romantic." And then I internally face-palm at the word choice. What about a loft is romantic? "I an cool. Lofts are so cool."
Lord, how am I going to survive this?
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