Page 71 of Red Hot Roaster

“I’ll deal with the dogs and clean up later. Tomorrow, there are things I need to tell you. Tonight…tonight is for us alone. Will you come upstairs with me?”

She held my gaze and nodded slowly. Then she took me by the hand and led the way up to the bedroom.

Chapter 35

Rose

I’ve got to catch him before he leaves. I’ve got to let him know.

I sit up in bed and grab my phone to text him. Where’s his message thread? I don’t even see him in my contacts. Ah…maybe he’s still packing—that’ll be faster. I run out of the bedroom, down the stairs and out the front door. Barefoot, but I don’t care.

When I get to the apartment, I try the door, but it’s locked. I pound away, calling his name. No answer, no barking, nothing.

Oh. The roastery. He’s there doing the extra roasts before he takes off. I can still catch him. I run down the sidewalk, slipping and stumbling in the rain, but I don’t care. I push open the side door and rush in, skidding to a halt in the middle of the room.

There he is. I start to talk, to tell him…and Mateo turns around. Rosita, he says, you missed him—he’s already left. And I just called the police—somebody broke in last night and vandalized the place.

He steps aside to show the battered roaster, looking like a crowbar had been used to beat it to pieces.

I’m shivering, and I can’t get any words out. I sink to my knees, hang my head.

Not again.

Lauren’s ringtone jarred me awake. I lay on my back, arms and legs tangled up in the sheet. I was panting, my throat dry and scratchy. Salty tears ran from my eyes down my cheeks to land on my lips.

No sleep T-shirt, panties or socks—only the cool, brutal rub of the sheets. I ached between my thighs and tasted bitter dark chocolate on my tongue.

Had any of it been real?

My phone stopped ringing, and a moment later, adingsounded. I pulled my arms loose and scrubbed my face dry with a corner of the sheet. I expected Pirate to start complaining about his breakfast…or lack thereof…but he and Princess were nowhere to be seen.

I swung my legs around to sit up, swaying a bit. It was getting light outside. How longhadI slept in? Thankfully, I didn’t have to go in until one o’clock to relieve Mateo.

When my phone dinged again, I grabbed it from the nightstand. Rather than pick up the messages, I called my bestie directly.

“Lauren…” I swallowed and tried again. “I had the most dog-awfuldream. It seemed so real.”

There was silence for a beat. “Well, hello to you too, girlfriend.”

“Oh, sorry, sorry, sorry! I got your message last night and haven’t had a chance to call,” I rattled on. “Finn texted that he was back safe and sound at school too. Thanks again for driving him. How’s Baby? Was she happy to see her mom?”

“Yes, she slept cuddled on my chest all last night. I missed her so much!”

“I’m happy you got home in time to pick her up—and that dogbolt didn’t try to keep her.” I started to shiver for real this time and dragged the sheet back around my shoulders. “So…that was you? You left me three messages?”

“Yes, those were all me—I kept thinking of one more thing. But first, tell me all about your dream. Or was it a nightmare?”

“Definitely a nightmare. I was lucky I wasn’t sleepwalking too.”

“Why was that?”

“Somehow I ended up sleeping naked last night. My neighbors and the café customers would’ve gotten a real show.”

“Ah…panties-optional attire. I need deets! Tell me all about your nightmare…and about your night with Rafe.”

It was a relief to talk about my dream out loud. Made it less real, less scary, less a repeat of the past. Lauren even got me laughing about how, in real life, Pirate would’ve been racing behind me, barking his fool head off, begging for his breakfast.

When it came to Rafe, I shared the flavor, not the details, of our time last night.

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