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© Celia Sykes 2012

Smashwords Edition

Lauren looked up from her newspaper at Bryce as he wiped down the diner’s long counter. She gulped down the last of her coffee and waited for him to come over with a refill. She had been coming to the Seneca Diner every morning for the past few weeks, trying to work up the nerve to say anything more than “hi,” or “thank you.” She knew Bryce felt the same way, whenever she entered the diner, she could feel him looking at her, his pale green eyes watching her every move.

She wasn’t supposed to be there. For as long as she could remember, she had been forbidden from interacting with Bryce. It wasn’t just that he was a bad boy, which he obviously was. There was something else, something darker about him.

It had never been a problem until she turned eighteen, and the dreams started.There were three dreams, and she had them almost every night for months, but the dream with Bryce was the only good one. In it, they were standing in her kitchen, Bryce’s naked body pressed hard against her, she could feel something on the floor scraping into her knees. She couldn’t see herself, but she could see Bryce, and all of her senses were heightened. A shirt was torn on the floor, a piece of it wrapped around his calf. She swore she could smell the blood soaking through the cotton, the smell of sweat on his skin. She felt the muscles in his arms as he held and laid her down on the floor, ripping at her skirt. He was licking and kissing her breasts and her neck. She slid her hands onto his bare ass. This is where the dream really got good.

She had completely lost herself in the daydream when Bryce placed the check on her table. He had written something on it. His handwriting was terrible. All it said was: Tonight. Outside the diner. 8pm. Yes or no? She circled yes and wrote down her phone number. Finally they were getting somewhere. She made her way outside. Twelve hours until they were finally alone.

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