If You Stay (Beautifully Broken, #1)(15)

I have a jagged scar on my hand, right where my index finger meets my thumb.

An X just like Pax’s.

I startle and stare at it, noting how it is old and thick, just like his. In the sunlight, it seems sinister somehow, although I can’t imagine why. It’s just a scar. A hundred different things could have caused it.

But why is it on me?

I turn my hand in the light, rotating it in the sun, illuminating how it is as familiar on me as it is on him, as if I had worn it for years. As though it is comfortable on me, as though it is marking me for something.

X marks the spot.

I have no idea what it means. But something in my subconscious wants me to think on it, that much is true. There is something for me to ponder, something for me to solve. But I don’t know what.

I shake my head and walk to the white casket. What I do know is that I have to finish this out so that I can wake up. So, I carefully open the lid of the good casket, exposing a million glistening sunbeams.

They shoot from the casket and merge with the light pouring in from the window. The rays are beaming, sparkling, radiant. I stand in them, bathing in the warmth and the goodness, absorbing the light.

And when I wake up, I know I will feel that energizing radiance for some time to come. It’s my subconscious way of boosting myself up. It’s how I coped with the grief after my parents died.

It is how I cope with any kind of uncertainty now.

And judging from the scar on my hand, I’m guessing that it is Pax’s appearance in my life that has given my subconscious pause. He is what has triggered this dream once again.

While I can’t figure much of this dream out, at least that fact can only mean one thing.

I’m more interested in Pax than I would like to admit.

With a sigh, I roll out of bed and pad down the hall in my pajamas. There’s no way I’m going back to sleep now. Annoyed with myself for allowing a strange man inside my head, I bang everything around as I move around the kitchen. It doesn’t help my annoyance, but it does serve to wake me up.

Thankfully, my day passes quickly. After four cups of strong coffee, I venture into the shop and visit with friendly customers. When business slows down, I work on a new painting…something bright and cheerful. Like always, a good piece of art lifts me out of my funk.

I am humming as I duck out of the shop to grab a sandwich for lunch. As I pause to lock the door, I notice Pax’s black car parked on the street twenty yards from my shop. My head snaps up and I stare at it, my fingers frozen. He’s not in it. I don’t know if I am relieved or not.

“Looking for someone?”

Pax’s voice is right behind me.

You’ve got to be kidding me. This is too coincidental. I slowly turn to find myself face to face with the very man who has invaded my thoughts. Pax smiles, a slow panty-dropping grin.

“Are you stalking me again, Miss Hill?” He cocks an eyebrow.

My heart hammers.

“What?” I choke out. “This is my shop.”

Pax shrugs. “And that’s my car. You were staring at it like you were hoping I would get out of it.”

I’m guilty of that. I can’t say a word in my defense. Instead, I stare at him like an idiot.

“What are you doing downtown?” I finally manage, changing the subject.

“I don’t cook,” he explains. “I’m making a food run. The bar down the street makes good burgers.”

“Oh,” I answer dumbly. “That’s what I’m doing too.”

He lifts his eyebrow again.

“Not the bar,” I add quickly. “I’m going to the deli, next door to the bar.”

Pax smiles again. “All by yourself? Haven’t you heard that there are some bad things going on in Angel Bay? Just a while back, some dumbass overdosed on the beach. Apparently, they’re letting all kinds of *s in nowadays. It’s probably not safe for you to walk alone.”

I have to grin now, at his audacity.

“Oh, really? Wow. That does sound bad. Assholes are just running loose on our streets? I guess I’ll never know now when I’m going to bump into one.”

“How very true,” he answers softly, his golden eyes frozen on mine. Sweet Jesus. The man has beautiful eyes. So bottomless and warm. Like hot caramel. I gulp.

“Is this when you take your lunch every day?” he finally asks, breaking the silent stare.

“If I go out,” I answer. “Are you planning on stalking me again?”

We’re still standing in the middle of the sidewalk, but Pax doesn’t seem to care. Instead, he grins.

“Maybe,” he answers, before holding his arm out like a gentleman.

“Since I’m here and you’re here and we’re both going in the same direction… I’ll walk you today. I’ll keep the wolves at bay.”

I stare up at him as I slip my fingers into the crook of his leather covered elbow.

“I thought you were the baddest wolf of them all?”

He grins again, wickedly. It lights up his eyes with a gleam.

“That’s probably true,” he admits. “Are you afraid?”

“I should be,” I tell him.

But I’m not.

He walks me to the deli’s door and steps away from me. I feel the absence of his warmth immediately.