Page 13 of All Your Dreams

The words sound ridiculous and earnest all at once, but I mean every single one of them. I close my eyes, inhaling slowly before straightening my shoulders. One problem at a time. And I won’t be alone much longer, because Peyton will be here soon.

Peyton.

Just her name makes my entire body warm up. Shit. I shouldn’t think about her this way, but I can’t help it. She’s lodged herself under my skin and nobody knows about my pathetic little crush. Not Eli. Not Jax. If they did, Eli definitely wouldn’t have suggested Peyton as the perfect temporary nanny for my niece.

Which means I need to get my head straight before she walks through the door. Because the last thing I need right now is to start noticing her again. Yeah. Absolutely not.

Crying interrupts my racing thoughts. I turn off the water and wrap a soft towel around myself. Tilly’s red-faced in her bassinet, little fists once again curled tight. She has a promising future as a boxer if she keeps this up. I murmur nonsense reassurances, trying to settle both of us. There's not much else I can do to make her feel more comfortable. She's fed, her diaper is dry and I’m holding her. What else does a little baby need?

There’s a soft knock on the front door that I barely hear over the noise. Not checking first who it is, since only a few people have the code to come up here, I swing the door open and come face-to-face with Peyton. Everything in me stops. She’s more stunning than I remember with newly silver blonde hair cascading in soft waves over her shoulders and a hopeful, yet confused look on her face.

It takes me a moment to process that she’s real, standing in front of me, and not a figment of my imagination.

“You’re early,” I tell her.

“Umm—I was supposed to be here at seven, right?” She double-checks the watch on her wrist and glances past me toward Tilly, who lets out another unhappy cry. Seven. Shit. That’s right.

“Fuck.” With a long, tired sigh, I drag my hands over my eyes. “I thought I said eight. I’m so sorry.”

“That’s okay.”

And that’s when I feel it. The subtle shift at my waist. Before I can react, the damn towel drops, leaving me uncovered. In front of Peyton. I don’t breathe or move, too stunned to fix the slip right away. Water drips down my shoulders and back. I’m very, very aware of the fact that I’m standing completely naked in front of the woman who’s here to help me.

Her eyes go comically wide. Mine probably do too. We just stare at each other. The heat crawls up my neck and my cheeks burn. Without another word, I turn and run down the hall to my room, all while my ass is in full display.

At least she can’t say I’m boring.

5

PEYTON

Naked Ollie disappearing behind the door finally prompts me to move. I spot the kitchen on my left. I wash my hands before scooping Tilly out of the bassinet and rock the crying baby against my chest. She whimpers but quiets as I bounce around the spacious apartment. I smile when I see a sunflower-yellow baby carrier next to the play mat in the living room.

“Your uncle is an intriguing guy, isn’t he?” I whisper against her soft hair as I fasten the straps.

When I have the baby cuddled up to my front, I take a moment to process what the fuck just happened. I saw Ollie naked. Like naked naked. My brain, completely unhelpful, decides to replay the moment in high definition. Fantastic. I can’t help it when my cheeks heat up thinking of how he looked.

Ollie Braxton is the complete opposite of my ex. Where Nathan hated tattoos, Ollie has a collection of ink. His blond hair has grown a bit since I last saw him; the subtle waves remind me of surfers back home. But those icy blue eyes have stayed as captivating as I remembered. There’s also confidence in the way he carries himself, like he doesn’t bother pretending to be anything he’s not.

I shake my head free of the thoughts. Looking down, I admire the same bright and expressive light blue eyes as her uncle’s.

As I move around the big living room, I notice that it’s sparsely furnished. There are a maroon couch across the TV, a comfy-looking lounge chair and a dark wooden dining table surrounded by a set of unmatched chairs. Band posters decorate the walls, but the place still feels a bit empty. I wonder how long Ollie has lived here.

My eyes land on the guitars on their stands in the corner and I let out a low whistle of appreciation. Having played for years myself, I recognize the instruments and how stunning they are. The most beautiful of the trio is the matte black Gibson J-45 that makes my fingers itch to play. Later, I tell myself. Unsurprisingly, Nathan hated me being a guitarist. He thought only dudes in skinny jeans played guitar. I should’ve picked up violin or flute instead. So I never played when I was with him. How am I only now realizing how much I abandoned myself during our relationship?

Rustling comes from behind me. A loud thump follows, then a string of colorful swearing.

“Ollie, are you okay?” I call between chuckles.

“Yeah, I’m good.” His mumbled answer comes from behind the closed door. There’s another thud, followed by what sounds like a drawer slamming and I bite my lip to keep from laughing again.

Ollie appears then, drying his hair with the same towel that dropped earlier. He wears black jeans and a white T-shirt, his feet bare. The shirt clings to his toned upper body, and his hair falls messily into his eyes, giving him a just-rolled-out-of-bed look that works entirely too well.

“So—”

“I was thinking⁠—”

We start at the same time. Realizing what happened, we laugh and the awkwardness magically disappears. Ollie’s tired smile lingers for a second longer before Tilly reaches for him, taking all of his attention. “I gotta say; you’re a baby whisperer. She’s happier than she has been since…well, you know.”