Jillian Spectre and the Dream Weaver. Nic TatanoЧитать онлайн книгу.
explains it."
"Or maybe you've been thinking about me for other reasons."
"Well, you did ask for my phone number. And I am unattached."
Something seems odd as I say that, but I can't put my finger on it. What the hell, it's a dream and a serious hunk is glowing and obviously interested in me.
He moves closer, near enough that I can smell his earthy cologne. Trip is about a foot taller, so his chest is at eye level. He reaches toward me and gently runs his fingers through my hair. He lifts my chin with one finger, locks eyes with me, and suddenly the world disappears. His look is almost hypnotic, and I'm powerless to turn away. Not that I want to. I feel myself being drawn in, like I'm going into a trance. "So, Jillian, you figured out why I'm here?"
"I have been thinking about you. The way you saved me. I loved how it felt when you carried me." I slide my hands up along his arms, stopping on his biceps for a brief visit before ending up on his shoulders. "I felt so safe, so protected." I reach my arms up around his neck.
He bends down and lifts me by my hips. I wrap my legs around his waist, grab his head with my hands and our lips meet with a hunger I've never experienced. The ethereal light grows stronger, emanating from me as well, seeming to gain strength from our passion.
"Jillian!"
Someone's calling me but I don't care. It's my dream and this is too damn good. I keep kissing Trip, running my hands along his massive shoulders, then inside his shirt onto his toned chest.
"Jillian! What the hell?"
Oh, for goodness sake, what? I break the liplock and look to the side.
Ryan.
The ride home is excruciating. Ryan's jaw and fists have been clenched the whole time. I've been looking at the floor of the subway car. Luckily we're the only people in it, so we can talk. Not that we've been doing much of that.
Right now I'm dead sure I'm not dreaming.
And never was.
But it seemed so dreamlike. The famous people, the lobster and octopus. The glow from Trip's body. The fact that I didn't think twice about jumping into the arms of Trip Logan, something I would never do in real life. And that I told him I was unattached.
Because I couldn't remember I have a boyfriend who I love very much.
Then, it was like the alarm clock went off when I heard Ryan's voice. I was jolted back into reality and got walloped with a massive dose of guilt.
Ryan was furious, ready to blow. If he were a cartoon character, steam would have come out of his ears. I dropped out of Trip's arms and put my body between them, hoping they wouldn't get into some sort of duel over me. I mean, my boyfriend is well-built but Trip probably has sixty or seventy pounds on him and looks as though he could easily break Ryan in half.
Trip did the honorable thing and managed to diffuse the situation with some quick thinking, telling Ryan he didn't know I was taken and he'd had too much to drink. He apologized, beat a hasty retreat and left us alone.
Still, what was my excuse? My words sounded incredibly lame. I mean, think about it, you tell the guy you love, "Sorry, I thought I was dreaming so I was giving a tonsillectomy to a guy who is off the charts gorgeous while it looked like he was going to carry me off to the bedroom."
I even told him to read my mind, and he did, but for some reason it didn't back up my story. What I remembered was not what Ryan picked up, as he never saw the dream characters. All he saw was his girlfriend acting like a cheap slut about to hook up with another guy. Why I can remember it and he can't read it is something we need to figure out, and fast.
I'm biting my lip, trying to hold back tears as he stares straight ahead at a Broadway show poster for Wicked that hangs on the opposite wall of the subway car. The only sound is the train rumbling over the tracks. I slide my hand over, putting it on top of his, and his face relaxes a bit. "I hope you know I love you, Ryan."
He doesn't say anything, but slowly nods.
Progress.
"Something is happening to us. To me and Jake. Something we cannot control. I don't know what it is but I'm going to find out."
"Yeah," he says, barely audible. He turns to me, eyes wet. "Jillian, if it was a dream, why would you have been thinking of him?"
He doesn't trust me. He never calls me Jillian. I'm always Sparks.
"Remember the guy who pulled me out of the street the other day? It was him. He's really a nice guy—"
His eyes narrow into a glare.
"Sorry."
"Are you attracted to him?"
"I'm in love with you."
"You didn't answer the question."
"I believe I just did, Ryan." I squeeze his hand.
He goes back to staring at the poster, and I wonder if he now thinks of me as the Wicked Witch of the West. I know it's gonna be a while before he can get the image of me and Trip that's burned into his brain out of his head.
Problem is, it’s burned into my brain too.
Mom is already reading the New York tabloids with her morning coffee as I trudge down the stairs. She looks into my bloodshot, puffy eyes and her face tells me she instantly knows something is very wrong. "Jillian, what happened?"
I move across the kitchen, pour a cup of coffee and sit down across from her. "I think the dream weaver got me last night, Mom."
She sits up straight. "What?"
"It's a long story, and it wasn't my fault…but I sorta cheated on Ryan."
Her eyes widen as I tell her the story, from meeting Trip Logan to him saving my life to the dance. And the fact that Ms. Cruise was in the building and obviously got into my head.
"So this Trip fellow…that was the guy who pulled you out of the traffic the other day?"
I nod.
"And you were absolutely sure you were dreaming?"
"I was convinced, Mom. I saw things that couldn't possibly be real. I never would have cheated on Ryan. But when I ran into Trip, I couldn't even remember that I had a boyfriend. I told him I was unattached."
"Hmmm. The dream weaver has obviously gotten into your subconscious. Are you attracted to this guy?"
"He's beyond good looking, Mom, but I love Ryan."
"Not what I asked, Missy. Do you find him attractive?"
"Well, yeah. Sure. I think you'd be hard pressed to find a woman who didn't think he was attractive. Physically he's off the charts, and he's nice, too. I have to admit I was flattered that he asked for my phone number when we first met because guys like that can hook up with supermodels."
"She obviously tapped into that and used him to tempt you. I think Sebastien was right, they're trying to come between the four of you."
"Makes sense." I stare into my coffee cup. "Mom, there's something else."
"What?"
"Well, I don't know how to put this…but when I was kissing Trip in the dream, or what I thought was a dream, well, I felt something. A real connection that I don't feel with Ryan."
"You weren't yourself, sweetie. Hey, if I had a dream and ran into Bradley Cooper I'd rip his clothes off."
"You got a thing for Bradley Cooper?"
"I'm middle-aged, honey, I'm not dead. Anyway, you're being manipulated."
"God,