The Promised

Nine

"I don't think I'm ready for that, Ann."

"Sure you are! Have confidence in your abilities. That's the only way you'll be prepared to face what lies ahead," Ann assures me.

"That's the thing, Ann, I'm not prepared. Not in the slightest. Why is it so important to learn how to do this, anyway?"

"If you're in danger, you may not get to a phone. You could reach out and tell someone mentally that you aren't safe, and you need help. Also, sometimes you need to communicate something to those around you, you may not want others to hear. Again, doing that telepathically comes in handy. Just try it. Give me your hands." Ann takes my hands tightly in hers and closes her eyes.

I follow suit and drop my guard. "Can you hear me?"

"Yes," I reply.

"No, try to speak telepathically."

I focus on our connection. The touching of our hands only increases it. Ann tells me that eventually, the physical contact won't be necessary, but as I hone my skills, it's easier for me this way.

"So," Ann continues to speak through her thoughts, "I love petunias. What's your favorite flower?"

I hesitate. I focus on my breathing and the sensation of Ann's hands in mine. A part of me feels as though I'm no longer inside myself. "I love dahlias."

"Dahlias are lovely," she replies.

I laugh excitedly. "I did it!"

"Yes, you did! Well done!" Ann praises me.

We spend the rest of our training having a telepathic conversation. It's physically and mentally taxing. Ann says just like exercise, I'll eventually build my stamina and get less fatigued.

☆

When I get home, I take off my clothes, not even bothering to do anything else. While I lie in bed, I close my eyes and fall quickly to sleep.

As I dream, I walk into what appears to be Avery's bedroom. He's lying in bed. His head is resting on his folded arms as his chest steadily rises and falls. Suddenly, he stirs.

"Alice, what are you doing here?" he asks as he sits up in bed

I don't know how to respond. I've never had someone in a dream ask me why I was there.

"It's a dream," I respond.

It's the only answer I can think to give.

I'm asleep, dreaming. So, that's why I'm here, Dream Avery.

"That makes sense," he chuckles.

Something is strange. Dream Avery isn't acting like anyone I've ever encountered in a dream. Is this what they call lucid dreaming? I've only had a lucid dream once or twice before.

"Well, since I'm dreaming and you're here, care to join me in bed?" Dream Avery smirks.

For the first time, I realize he's shirtless. I spot the tattoos on Avery's arms as they extend onto his broad, muscular, upper chest and shoulders. When he swings his legs over the edge of the bed to sit, I can see they wrap around his upper back.

I wonder if that's really what his tattoos look like or if I'm just imagining what might be underneath his clothes. He isn't wearing anything but boxer briefs.

"I've never dreamt this vividly before," he says with a smoldering expression in his eyes, that even in my dream, makes the wetness pool at my core.

Funny. Dream Avery thinks he's dreaming too.

My hand goes to my chest as my breath catches. Bare. I peer down and I'm naked. Just as naked as I was when I laid down in bed.