Page 23 of Midnight & Memories

Poppy’s brows narrowed.

“Yes. But what does that have to do with anything?”

Ridge placed his palms out to face her.

“Just humor me for a minute and answer the question, please?”

“Fine. Each one is more intense than the other. One of these dreams was weirder than the rest because I saw you grow fangs. And you bit my neck like a vampire. But that’s just my mind going crazy because I watched An Interview with a Vampire the night before. What would any of this have to do with you leaving me?”

“Why do you think you keep having dreams like those, Poppy?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps my mind is nuttier than I perceived it to be. I mean, these dreams can’t be a past life regression. I figured they were at first, but when I dreamed of you being a vampire, I chalked them all up to an over-active imagination.”

“How did you feel in the dream when you found out I was a vampire?”

“I was fine with it. But again—why does it matter? This has nothing to do with you breaking it off with me.”

Ridge palmed her hand for a moment before continuing.

“What if I told you that you weren’t wrong about all those dreams being a past life regression? What if I told you I am, in fact, a vampire?”

Poppy blinked.

“Come on—that’s impossible, right?”

She laughed at the absurdity that Ridge was talking about. Still, his gaze never faltered from the seriousness of his brows. And then, without warning, a series of instances about Ridge bombarded her. It was as if her subconscious knew more about the silly conversation than she did.

“Your body has always been a little cool to the touch, and your eyes turn a fiery reddish-orange when I kiss you. Plus? The hickey you tried to give me was more painful than any other I’ve had, and yet it didn’t leave a mark.” She placed a palm over her mouth. “You are—and I’m, I—” Her voice trailed for a moment. “You are a vampire. Wait? Does this mean that I am a bloodsucker, too?”

Ridge smirked before letting out a chuckle.

“No, darling. You are 100 percent human, and we used to be lovers in your past life. That is, until the day the Titanic set sail.”

Ridge lowered his head and frowned. Poppy’s brows narrowed again before going wide.

“I’m the lover you lost? I’m the reason you only sleep on the right side of the bed?”

“Yes, my darling, you were the reason.”

“Why didn’t you turn me? To save me from drowning in the Titanic, I mean.”

“Because you were very adamant about living your life as a human. You wanted a normal life, as well as a normal death.”

Poppy looked over at her beer, which was now empty from the large gulps she had in between Ridge’s explanation.

“I need another drink. Bartender, can I get a whiskey—neat?”

“Are you okay, Poppy?”

“I just need time to process all of this, and whiskey helps me relax so I can think. I still don’t get why you broke it off with me. Did you figure I’d run away from you if I knew the truth? Or was my blood so repulsive to you that you had to head for the hills?”

“Poppy, your blood makes me crazy. So crazy that I feared I’d lose control, and I could never do that to you.”

“So why tell me all of this now? What’s changed?”

“Poppy, the fear of never seeing you again is worse than the fear of losing control. I know that now. This last week has been excruciating. It was as if I was mourning you all over again. I understand that this is a new life for you. And you have free will. That’s why I ghosted you. I couldn’t bear the thought of hurting you.”

Poppy practically snatched her whiskey from the bartender and downed it in one swig. She then asked the bartender for a “to go” container before she returned her gaze to Ridge.

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