“What time do you get done with classes?”
“Four o’clock,” I tell him, “but I have a meeting with the theater department from five until seven.”
Eamon’s lips turn down in displeasure. “Damn. I’m done at three, but I have mountains of homework to do. Some red-headed lass keeps distracting me.”
I snort in amusement, rolling my eyes at him. “What happened to thatexcellent focus you were talking about?”
“Oh, it’s still there. Just directed at other things.” He winks at me.
“You’re incorrigible, Eamon Kennedy,” I quip, shaking my head.
“Absolutely. Now, let me kiss you goodnight, Norah.”
Before I can even respond, his mouth descends on mine in a firm but tender kiss. He brushes his tongue over the seam of my lips, and I gladly grant him access, twining my tongue with his in a gloriously slow rhythm. All too soon, he breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against mine.
“Go inside, love,” he says in a pained whisper. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Goodnight, Eamon,” I whisper back, dipping my head to kiss him quickly one more time before climbing out of the car and up the steps to my door. I unlock it, then turn to wave at him before walking inside. Once the door is securely shut and locked, I send him the text he requested.
Norah:Safely inside, doors locked. Be safe driving home.
Eamon:Always. Sweet dreams, Norah.
I peek out of the window, watching him drive away, and have no doubt that my dreams will be very sweet tonight.
* * *
Tuesday morning is here too soon and I hit the snooze on my alarm about five times before dragging myself out of bed. Seriously considering playing hooky, I trudge into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee before taking a shower. Since I’m late getting up, I skip washing my hair and just throw it up into a messy bun. I desperately want to don my sweats and favorite hoodie, but I need to be somewhat put together for the meeting later. With the production only weeks away, we need to iron out the details.
Thirty minutes later, I’m dressed in a long emerald tunic-style top over black leggings and gray knee-high boots. I put on enough makeup to hide the dark circles under my eyes but don’t overdo it. I hear my phone chirp an alert for a text message and reach for it. It’s from Eamon. My heart flips in my chest, and a grin spreads across my face.
Eamon:Good morning, beautiful. I dreamed of you all night.
My cheeks heat as I text him back.
Norah:Good morning, yourself. Oh yeah? All perfectly appropriate, I’m sure.
Eamon:I’ll never tell. ;)
Norah:Cheeky. I guess that means I’ll keep my dreams to myself then.
Eamon:I take it back. Trade a dream for a dream?
Norah:Haha! Nice try, Kennedy. A lady never dirty-dreams and tells. ;)
I’m thoroughly enjoying the banter when a loud knock sounds at the door. Startled, I shriek and almost drop my phone. I quickly compose myself and hurry to the door, fully expecting Layla, though I don’t know why she’s knocking when she has a key. I open the door, and standing there in all his deliciousness, arm propped on the door frame above his head, is the subject of my dreams.
“What are you doing here?” I ask in shock.
“You can’t just expect me to stay put while you tease me with words like ‘dirty dreams,’” Eamon says, smirking devilishly at me.
“But you—when did you—” I sputter.
Eamon laughs and steps inside. “My first class isn’t until nine, and I remembered yours is at eight. I wanted to give you a ride.”
Grinning like an idiot, I watch as his eyes slowly move from my face, down my body, and back up. He lets out a low whistle and steps towards me.
“You look breathtaking.” He leans in to kiss me before adding, “This color is perfect on you.”
