Yearnings: A Paranormal Romance Box Set by Amber Scott, Carolyn McCray Read Free Book Online Page B

crushed her. Her feelings were still a secret. Mostly.
    “ Hey. Even runway models fall down. Anyone can live down a little clumsiness, right?” Ben patted her leg.
    It helped. She still felt less like outright bawling. Besides, she might never see him again. That’d be plenty of time to get over it.
    She needed a distraction. “Let’s watch a movie or something.”
    Ben commandeered control of the remote. The thought of painting popped into her head. She ignored it. Nope. No painting for Sadie. Not for days if she could help it. Painting would fuel her fantasies and feed the hurt.
    She’d rather watch marathon reality dating shows with Ben. He maintained enough catty chatter to further distract her, if she focused. Alone she might drown. And that was not an option. Depression meant everything she’d worked for would be lost and no guy was worth that. No matter how alive and vibrant being near him made her feel.
    Unfortunately, Ben left by midnight.
    Sadie showered. The hot water pounded her skin. She focused on the heat and rhythm of the water, coursing down her shoulders, over her face, clearing her head. She shampooed twice, let the conditioner sit, hoping by taking her time, Jen would get home. Whenever Elijah’s face reappeared in her mind, she hummed, repeated the checklist: ways to keep busy.
    One: more TV. Two: journal. Three: the Internet. She could look up meanings of dreams. Articles on living med - free. She thought of Heather and her chest panged.
    Heather would learn to trust Sadie one day, to know she was going to be alright. The longer she lived functionally, the more their lives could go back to how they were before. Not the same, of course. Nothing would ever be the same. But at least, she hoped, she and her little sister could be sisters again. Friends.
    They’d been so close before.
    But that was a whole other heartache. Not what she needed tonight.
    She shut the water off and toweled herself dry, listening for signs of Jen’s arrival home. Maybe she would try to read. Her mind usually wandered too fast , though. Pajamas on, she took her quilt to the sofa and resumed watching television.
    She hadn’t told Ben about the dreams and that left Jen. Could she trust her cousin to keep it to herself? Settling on sitcom reruns , Sadie watched another two hours.
    No Jen.
    Jen could be on a vacation in the Bahamas for all she knew. Sadie hadn’t been the most attentive of roommates the last few days so she had no idea what her cousin had been up to except work. If she were Jen, she’d be somewhere besides here. Jen had such a wonderfully normal life. She was in her late twenties, held a good job she liked. She was single and she was pretty. Why wouldn’t she be out instead of home, coddling poor , rejected Sadie?
    Tired, Sadie gave up and went to bed. Her shoulder blades ached.
    Sadie didn’t want to be jealous. Jen had done so much for her. She’d used her job on campus to find Sadie the library gig, she’d taken her in, given her private space and left her to herself. She didn’t treat Sadie like an invalid or a child.
    She hated being jealous. But she was.
    Jen lived what Sadie craved. Normalcy. Boring and predictable. Sublime and perfect.
    Sick of feeling sorry for herself, Sadie climbed under her covers and counted backwards from a hundred, telling herself tomorrow was a new day. Within four - hundred - and - seven breaths, she fell asleep and the dream began.
    A soft tickle of breath fluttered against her fingertips. Hot breath. Sadie reached out for more of the delicious warmth. An ache formed in her chest. The breath complied , then became a kiss.
    Sadie gasped.
    One soft - lipped kiss to each finger, his nose nuzzling her palm. Hope stabbed her chest. She inhaled sharply. Part of her worried this would end badly , but she couldn’t resist the expectancy beckoning her, more. More. Knowing what might come.
    More.
    Soft chimes of noise—like wind chimes but deeper, longer—filled her