ALAYNA
“Going somewhere?”
I look up at the man blocking the way. It is that mask, the same gray eyes, and melodious baritone voice. I’m still not sure if I’m dreaming or if the alcohol has already affected me.
How is this possible?
“Brandon,” I say, still unsure. “No... It’s impossible.”
A deep groan vibrates in his throat, and his chest tenses up. He grabs my wrist, his thumb pressing on my pulse. I can feel the warmth of his palm on my skin.
“Do you not know when to stop or when to come home?” he asks, sounding furious.
I shake my head. “This must be a dream,” I murmur. “I must be dreaming. You seem so real!”
His jaw clenches. “Because I am!”
I gawk at him, still astounded. It’s him. He’s really here.
“Wait!” I jerk my hand away, but his grip tightens. “How are you here?”
“Is
