Fantasy land is the best part of sleeping. I so easily slip back into dreamland. I haven’t been touched in so long; I’ve conjured my leading man very craftily with the help of some steamy romance novels I’ve recently read. His hands, which I’ve always loved, sweep down my torso. I’m a bit mad he doesn’t pay homage to my breasts, but that thought flitters away as his fingertips stroke over my bundle of nerves with perfect pressure.

“Oh my god, it’s been so long,” I say languorously.

“Yes, it has.”

I almost jump out of my skin. My eyes fly open as I jackknife into a sitting position. There is a man in my bed!

“Drew, I mean Andy.” I shake off the cobwebs because who else could it be? Besides, I would recognize his voice anywhere.

“Cate?”

“Why are you in my bed?” I’m now fully aware I’m naked. Fantasy land has morphed into reality. Despite our history, he’s never been one to take liberties. I yank the sheet up to neck level.

“Actually, you’re in my bed.” His proclamation rocks my world.

“What?” I continue to clutch the sheet as I scoot back to lean on the headboard. That’s when I notice the room for the first time. The dark furniture isn’t positioned the way my more modern pieces are. In fact, the door isn’t even on the side of the room it should be. So this can’t be my bedroom.

He matches my position against the headboard, only he doesn’t cover himself. His bare chest is there for me to peruse with my eyes and my hands if I were bold enough to do so. His muscled frame is defined ridges and hill tops that beg for attention. God, he is beautiful. I feel the moisture between my legs, which precedes the heat in my cheeks.

He takes my free hand in his and gives me a gentle smile.

“Cate, sweetheart, you passed out in my car. I had no idea where you lived. I checked your purse but you still have a South Carolina driver’s license. You should get that changed, by the way.”

He kisses my hand as if to put me at ease. His eyes land where I have a white knuckled grip on the sheet and he chuckles softly.

I feel stupid because he’s seen the goods, yet I can’t seem to let go of the sheet. Instead, I fill the silence with a hasty explanation. “I don’t own a car. So I keep forgetting to change my license.”

He nods and squeezes my hand. “I tried to wake you but you didn’t stir. I had no choice but to bring you home, not that I’m sorry about it.”

His eyes trail down my body like a caress.

“Where is home?” One glance through the partially open blinds and I know I’m not in downtown DC.

“Baltimore.”

“Baltimore?”

He nods again. I could question him more about that but I have other pressing questions that need answers.

“Why am I in your bed?”

The Drew I knew was a gentleman. If he wants us to start from scratch, he wouldn’t presume I’d sleep with him.

“I don’t know. I put you in my spare bedroom, fully dressed I might add. I woke up to the sound of you calling my name begging me to touch you.”

His eyes sweep down to my sheet-covered body and back up again. Even though I’m not exposed, I’m mortified by his revelation. Stumbling through his apartment and not finding my way in the middle of the night comes back to me. I’d been in search of the bathroom, and eventually crawled into his bed naked. He’d slept through the whole ordeal until I vocalized my fantasies. I slide down and lift the covers to hide myself completely, and then I see I’m not the only one naked.

I snatch the covers back off of my head. Then have the presence of mind to cover my breasts again. “You’re naked,” I accuse.

“Yeah, I kind of sleep that way. But you should know that.”

The problem is I know too much. This so isn’t going to work. It’s way too awkward for me. The past keeps colliding into the present. And even though he seems perfectly fine with it, I’m not. I roll to the side of the bed, dragging the sheet with me. I don’t look back as I stand, covering my bare ass, and skedaddle to the bathroom where I left my clothes if drunk-memory serves. By the time I come out, fully dressed sans my underwear, he has pajama bottoms on and is holding a glass of water and a bottle of Advil.

In one hand, I hold the balled-up thong I’d felt too gross to put back on after showering and plan to toss in my purse once I find it. He hands me two pills, and I drink them down with the glass of water I take from him.

“Thanks.”

“Not a problem. I would drive you home.” He glances at his watch. “But I’m due in the hospital in a half an hour. I guess I overslept.”

I wave him off. “No, it’s fine. I’ll call a cab.”

He shakes his head. “No need. You can drop me off at work and then use my car. I won’t need it. Come back later tonight and we can have dinner. Then I’ll take you home.”

“I can’t use your car. What if you suddenly need it?”

He steps forward and cups my chin. He rubs my cheek with the pad of his thumb. In his beautiful eyes I see all the memories we made together. The way he clenches his jaw, I know he’s fighting back the words to remind me of everything we shared.

“I’m going to be at work all day. I won’t need it. And I know we are starting fresh, but we know each other better than this. Take my car, and come back tonight. In fact, you can pick me up at work. It will give you the excuse you’ll need to have dinner with me.”

He presses a kiss to my temple before walking away, leaving me to chew on his words. I watch him lift a pair of pants that are slung across a chair in his room and pull out his car keys. He takes my hand and uncurls my fingers, placing the keys in my palm and closing my hand around them.

“Give me a few minutes to shower,” he says before disappearing in the bathroom.

I clutch the keys and stop myself from following him into the bathroom. It would be so easy to join him. It’s harder to stay rooted to my spot and not simply slide into the routine of us as a couple.

Long minutes later, I think I’ve barely breathed the whole time. The keys bite into my palm from the strength of my clutched fingers. He steps out with a towel around his hips and the slight pain in my hand is forgotten. He’s still damp with beads of water trickling down his back as he heads into his walk-in closet. I close my eyes and am immediately assaulted with fantasies of him lifting me with his powerful arms and taking me against the tiled shower wall. Clearly it’s been a while, I tell myself as I blink my eyes a few times trying to dispel the images.

When he walks out, he’s wearing a set of green scrubs. It reminds me of old times. He walks up to me and smooths my unruly hair back. It’s probably a bed head mess. I didn’t bother to glance at myself in the mirror when I got dressed.

“Come back tonight. I’ll fix you dinner.”

He’s always been one to ask for what he wants. I waver while considering my minor freak after waking up in his bed.

“No breakfast.” As much as he lights my fire in a big way, I can’t. “I’m not ready for breakfast.”

His indulgent grin makes me feel silly for even bringing it up.

“No breakfast. Not until we’re both ready for breakfast. But maybe a snack.”

His brow arches in question and I stare at his lips. My gaze must have lingered too long because he assumes my answer. His lips radiate warmth and security as they press against mine. For so long I’ve missed this. I’ve missed him. He pulls back and I almost wish he’d taken it deeper.

“Just dinner,” he whispers.

I roll in my lower lip and sigh. I have no idea how he doesn’t hate me or why he hasn’t moved on. He’s a great catch and easy on the eye. Women have to be banging down his door, which makes me jealous just thinking about it. Then again, despite our pact for a fresh start, nothing between us can ever be uncomplicated. But I haven’t felt this way in a long time. I close my eyes for a second before meeting his. I take the plunge. “Dinner, then.”