Dream of Us
Chapter Twenty-Two

Ani’s POV.

Drinking with Adrian is a lot of fun. For starters, he can really hold his alcohol. Gwen and Daphne couldn’t keep up with Adrian, Sian, and I earlier. It’s like we metabolise alcohol differently to them or something, I was barely buzzed when they were far gone.

By 3AM though, Adrian and I are suitably intoxicated. We find ourselves in a pulsing nightclub, surrounded by students and sweaty bodies. With my arms around his neck and his hands on my waist, we sway and grind to the music, rubbing against each other like cats on a scratching post. I lose complete track of time and I’m startled when the club turns the lights on, and the DJ announces that it’s time to clear out.

Adrian takes my hand and leads me through the crowds. He isn’t as drunk as me, that much is obvious from the way I stumble behind his steady paces. The cold air is like a slap to the face when we step outside. He guides me over to the taxi rank and we wait in the queue. It’s chilly out and I shuffle closer to him.

He doesn’t hesitate to put his arm around my shoulders. I wrap my arms around his waist and rest my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes. He rubs my arms, keeping me warm as the wind blows.

“I had a good time tonight,” I mumble into his jumper.

He chuckles, his chest vibrating with the noise. “So did I.”

“I think my head is going to hurt tomorrow.”

“I think it is, too. Don’t worry, I have aspirin.”

“We’re going to yours?” I ask, although I’m not concerned by that in the slightest.

Maybe I should be?

“I’m not letting you go back to your place alone in this state,” he says simply. “You’re staying at mine, so I know that you’re alright. I’ll keep my hands to myself; I swear to you.”

Funnily enough, him keeping his hands to himself is the last thing I want.

“Okay. Thank you.”

He laughs again and rubs my back. “Anytime. Come on, this taxi is ours.”

He helps me into the car and gives directions to the driver. I close my eyes and doze on his shoulder until we get to his place. I’ve never heard him talk about his place before. It’s a modern flat in a fancy building. I follow him into the lift, and we travel halfway up before the doors ding open. He lets himself into the place, which is pretty bare except for the essentials in furniture like a sofa and a TV. There are no decorations, vases, paintings, pictures, nothing like that.

“I only recently moved in, haven’t decorated yet,” he explains, as though he already knows what I’m thinking.

“How do you do that?” I ask him as I clumsily take off my heels.

“Do what?” He asks.

“Read my mind.”

He laughs and shakes his head. “What do you mean? I can’t read your mind.”

“Yes, you can! You always seem to know what I’m thinking, and you know all the right things to say.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m reading your mind,” he says gently and helps me up from the floor.

I gave up trying to balance on one leg and take off my heels, I collapsed onto his fluffy carpet instead. He gets me to my feet and leads me into his bedroom, holding my hand. The tingles are running up and down my arm like crazy.

“And there’s those,” I state, pointing at my hand, as if he can see them as well as feel them. “There are tingles on my skin every time we touch. Do you feel them?”

He smiles softly at me and rubs his thumb over my hand. “Of course I feel them.”

“What does it mean?” I ask him curiously, my drunken eyes wide.

“It means…” he hesitates, and I lean forwards, wanting to know what he’s going to say. “It means we’re supposed to be together,” he finally says.

Just as he drops that bomb, he steps back and disappears into his bathroom. I remain standing still in his bedroom, dumbfounded by what he said.

The bed looks inviting. The duvet is huge and poofy and looks so incredibly comfy. I inch towards it, wondering if it would be rude to throw myself on it.

“There’s a new toothbrush out on the side for you and a washcloth. If you want to freshen up, I’ll find something for you to sleep in.”

I thank him and go into the bathroom. I pee, clean my teeth, plait my wild hair, and wash my make-up off with his flannel. I feel bad when the white material is turned black, pink, and orange from my make-up. I’ll wash that tomorrow.

I cautiously emerge from the bathroom as Adrian is setting a large glass of water down on the bedside table. He picks up an oversized t-shirt from the bed and hands it to me.

“Here, you can sleep in this.”

“Thank you,” I mumble.

As I go back into the bathroom to change, I wonder why he is being so nice to me. Unless he’s going to suddenly change, he has been nothing but a gentleman tonight. He hasn’t been particularly flirty, even when I’ve been all over him, flirting my ass off. He hasn’t made a single move, copped a feel in the crowd or tried to take advantage in my inebriated state. He has looked after me and still kept his distance, except our hug in the taxi queue.

Some might think I’m stupid for letting myself get in such a state, and then going back to his flat when I really only know his first name, but I trust Adrian. I’ve never regretted trusting my instincts in the past, and they tell me that he’s one of the good ones.

His t-shirt smells like him and I want to keep it forever. I can’t stop lifting the fabric to my nose and inhaling deeply. It smells so good, musky, and spicy at the same time. It’s big enough that it covers everything. I take off my bra and dress and hold them to my chest as I leave the bathroom.

Adrian has turned off the lights except one lamp. He’s on the left side of the bed, already under the covers. He was serious about not letting me out of his sight, then. I put my clothes on a chair in the corner and slide under the covers next to him. The bed is large enough that no part of us touches.

“Goodnight, Ani. Wake me if you need anything.”

He turns out the light.

“Night, Adrian. Thank you.”

It goes quiet in the room. I roll onto my side and fall asleep to the sound of his steady breathing.

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The first thing I notice in the morning is my sore head. It’s pounding quite a bit. I groan and reach for the glass of water Adrian left on my side of the bed. Two pills sit next to it with a note that says ‘aspirin’. I take them gratefully, swallowing them with a large swig of water.

The bed is empty next to me. I remember waking up in the night. I had somehow shifted myself to be right next to Adrian, and he had put his arm around me. I could hear his heartbeat in my ear, and it was quite fast, making me think he was awake too, but neither of us said anything and I fell back to sleep.

I slowly get out of bed and shuffle to the shower, desperate to wash the nightclub off me. I use the shower, the whole time trying not to think about how Adrian stands naked under this spray most days. Even though nothing happened last night, it doesn’t mean my attraction to him as diminished at all. If anything, I feel even closer to him.

I put my dress back on when I’ve dried off. It feels weird to wear it in the morning like this. I go out to the bedroom, and I’m surprised to see a jumper and a pair of joggers on the bed.

Are these for me?

Assuming Adrian must have left them out for me because they weren’t there before I showered, I change out of my dress and put them on. They’re too big on me of course, but they’re seriously comfy and I kind of like the over-sized feel. I go barefoot into the kitchen, where Adrian is cooking bacon, eggs, and toast.

“Good morning.”

He turns around, smiling with a pan in his hand.

“Good morning, how do you feel?” He asks as he serves the eggs onto two plates.

He pushes one towards me, along with a carton of juice.

“Better now that I’ve had the aspirin, thank you for those. And the clothes. And breakfast, actually,” I reply, laughing.

His smile is warm, his tone friendly as he responds, “Anytime, Ani. Now, eat up.”

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