I woke up in the middle of the night and felt someone next to me. In the moonlight, the man dressed lightly appeared in my bed again.
Chapter 1
In the middle of the night, I felt someone next to me.
In the faint moonlight, that lightly dressed man was back on my bed again.
1
I was losing my mind.
Ever since my mom made an impromptu visit to a tiny, nameless church to pray for my love life, this mysterious man had started appearing in my bed every night.
But each time, it was like I'd been hit by sleep paralysis – I couldn't move, couldn't speak. All I could do was lie there and watch as he stole my blankets, sprawled across my bed, and then, as if it were nothing, gave me a shove that sent me tumbling off the mattress.
At first, I thought this was some desperate measure from my mom to force me into "moving on" with my love life.
But when I stayed overnight at my friend Elliana Fowler's place and, halfway through the night, turned to find her replaced by that same man, I realized...
It was a dream!
The next day, I was beside myself.
When I explained the situation to Elliana, she clapped a comforting hand on my shoulder and gave me some sage advice,
"If you can't resist it, just go with it!"
I was speechless.
That night, the man showed up again.
I resigned myself to my fate, bracing for the inevitable push that would send me back onto the floor. But instead, he reached out, his arm sweeping around me, pulling me right into his chest.
My face landed firmly against his pecs.
They were so
...solid.
I tried to wriggle free, but then I realized, somehow, I could actually move.
As I cautiously shifted, he held me tighter, his voice coming out in a low,
husky murmur.
"Don't move."
And that's when I woke up.
Elliana's advice started making a lot more sense.
Each night, I went to bed anticipating the strange, recurring encounter.
And then I discovered: whenever I made physical contact with him, I could move again.
It was as if the rules of the dream wanted me to be...a little less than virtuous?
Not that I was doing anything untoward. Mostly, I'd just check out his pecs, explore his abs, maybe investigate the fit of his boxer briefs. That was it, really.
One thing kept bothering me, though.
In the dream, I could never clearly see his face. A thin haze seemed to always hang over it, leaving me with just a sense of strong jawlines and sharp contours.
Unfazed, I tried working my way up from his collarbone one night, only to find a little surprise on his neck: two tiny moles.
2
"Hayley,
have you been seeing someone lately?"
Valerie Holt from the next desk leaned over and asked with a smirk.
I quickly denied it.
"No, no, nothing like that."
She gave me a knowing smile.
"Well, something's up – you're practically glowing these days."
I lowered my head, trying to cover my blush by busying myself with work.
Last night, the man had asked if I wanted to meet him in real life.
I'd almost answered him when my mom's voice, yelling at me to wake up, pulled me back into the waking world. By then, it was nearly nine in the morning.
On my commute to work, my mind swirled with thoughts about what might happen tonight.
A little later, Valerie leaned over again.
"Hey, Hayley, did you hear? Gwyneth quit."
I was taken aback,
"What? Why?"
"Something to do with family stuff,
I think."
Gwyneth Walsh was the department head and the one who kept things together around here.
"So who's taking over?"
I asked.
"I heard they hired someone for the role,"
Valerie said, her eyes gleaming with curiosity.
"An eligible bachelor, no less."
Yeah, right. He was probably middle-aged by now.
I imagined a greasy, overweight man.
But just as I was about to make a snide comment, the office suddenly buzzed with chatter. I looked up to see some senior managers walking in with a tall man.
He stood near me, just at an angle where I couldn't quite make out his face, but the moment he introduced himself, his voice rang a familiar chord in my head.
Valerie grabbed my arm the second he walked away, barely containing her excitement. "Isn't Mr. Willis just gorgeous?" I just sat there, staring at my screen, my mind blank.
Because if I wasn't mistaken, this new department head, Greyson Willis...
had the exact same two tiny moles on his neck.
3
The entire day, I kept sneaking glances through the glass into Greyson's office.
The voice, the build, those moles...
This all had to be some sort of coincidence.
"Hayley, you crushing on Mr. Willis, too?"
Valerie teased, wagging her eyebrows at me.
I quickly shook my head, denying everything while pretending to work.
Inside, though, I was a mess of tangled thoughts, and my productivity took a nosedive.
By the time I wrapped everything up, it was already past nine. Stretching, I noticed the light in the director's office was still on.
Greyson was staying late.
Day one, and he was already working overtime. No wonder he'd moved up so quickly.
That night, it took a while before he showed up in my dream.
He turned over, reaching out to pat my head.
"Sorry for being late. Had to work overtime."
I mean,
he didn't have to apologize to me. I wasn't waiting for him or anything...
But when he mentioned "overtime," my mind instantly flashed back to Greyson Willis.
After some deliberation, I asked hesitantly,
"So... are you by any chance a director at some company?
Last name Willis?"
There was a brief pause, then a low, resonant chuckle from his chest.
"How did
you guess?"
4
At 26, I, Hayley Mitchell, was somehow spending every night in my dreams sharing a bed with a stranger.
And now,
that stranger was my boss.
At work, I tried to avoid Greyson as much as possible. After all, if I could recognize him, it was only logical that he might recognize me too.
Still, being in the same department meant contact was inevitable, especially when he called everyone in for introductory performance reviews.
When my turn came, I spoke in a lowered voice and kept my responses as concise as possible.
Greyson nodded as if nothing was amiss.
Back at my desk, Valerie leaned over.
"Hayley, what's with the voice?"
"Oh, just a bit of a sore throat,"
I replied quickly.
"Catch a cold?"
she asked.
"No,
nothing like that."
Just then, I felt a pair of eyes on me. I looked up to see Greyson's gaze meet mine for a split second
before he casually glanced away,
like it was just a random accident.
Determined to steer clear, I promised myself I'd avoid looking his way from now on unless absolutely necessary.
When it was time to leave, I practically ran to the elevators, slipping into one that was closing just in time. I was about to count my luck when I glanced up – and there he was, standing in the corner with an eyebrow arched, watching me.
I was flustered.
"Uh, Mr. Willis!
Wrapping up for the day?"
"Mm-hmm."
His reply was curt,
with no intention of small talk.
I quickly turned around, facing the elevator doors.
As we stopped at a few floors, more people squeezed in,
pushing me closer and closer to Greyson.
Instead of the usual rom-com moment of "falling into his arms," I managed a less graceful move – I tripped and ended up stepping squarely on Greyson's polished leather shoe.
A quiet grunt escaped above me, and I blurted out,
"I'm so sorry, Mr. Willis, I didn't mean to..."
Before I could finish, someone bumped me from behind again, and I lost my footing,
landing my shoe right back on his.
Apparently,
my shoes had developed a deep affection for his.
After the third bump that sent me stumbling yet again, Greyson placed a firm hand on my shoulder, steadying me in the small space directly in front of him.
Above me, his chuckle rumbled, a sound so familiar it sent a chill down my spine, like his late-night laughter in my dreams.
"Careful there," he said softly.
"My shoes are pretty expensive."
5
As soon as we exited the elevator, I apologized again and even offered to cover any repair costs.
Greyson waved it off. "It's fine. No need."
Just as I turned to leave, he called my name.
My heart skipped a beat, thinking he might recognize me.
But his tone remained professional: "Hayley, your review was a little light.
Please prepare a more detailed version by tomorrow morning."
For some reason, even though he'd chuckled in the elevator, he maintained an almost distant, unfamiliar air around me.
And honestly, that was fine.
We were, after all, just coworkers.
I nodded and agreed to the task.
That night, Greyson was back in my dream,
attempting to reach over and pat my head. I pushed his hand away.
"What's wrong?"
he asked.
"Well, since you're showing up every night,
can we set some ground rules?"
He gave me a puzzled look.
"Ground rules?"
"Yes. Rule one: You're going to start wearing pajamas. Rule two: No climbing into my bed.
Rule three: No touching."
He laughed softly, tapping my hand where it rested against his abs.
"You know, you'd be more convincing if you weren't touching me while you said all that."
Frustrated, I sighed,
"You know I can't move unless I'm holding onto you."
He gave a shrug, smile in place.
"Alright, agreed."
In my dreams, Greyson was nothing if not patient, gentle, even considerate. Unlike those initial nights, he no longer kicked me off the bed.
I wondered, though – was this dream actually shared between the two of us, or was he just a figment of my own imagination?
"What are you thinking about?"
he asked.
I made something up on the spot.
"Just that my mom keeps telling me I'm gaining weight and that I'll never find a husband."
"Don't worry. You're not heavy,"
he replied.
I huffed,
"You don't even know how much I weigh."
There was a pause before he chuckled, low and lazy, his voice like warm honey.
"Well, you've stepped on me twice now,
and I didn't feel a thing."
6
I woke up with a start.
"Hayley, you're going to be late!"
my mom shouted from outside my room.
I checked my phone: almost nine again.
Ever since Greyson started appearing in my dreams, I'd been sleeping so deeply I couldn't hear my alarm.
I grabbed a milk carton and a piece of bread as I dashed out the door.
On my way to work, Greyson's words from last night, "You stepped on me twice, and I didn't feel a thing," replayed in my head.
My pulse quickened. Could he have already recognized me in real life, just as I had with him?
When I got to the office, Greyson hadn't arrived yet. I sat down to revise my performance report, fingers tapping furiously on the keyboard.
Valerie slid over, raising an eyebrow at my focus.
"Working extra hard today?"
I took a bite of bread.
"Mr. Willis asked me to rewrite a more detailed report."
Just then, a tall figure strode past us.
My fingers froze.
"What's up?"
Valerie asked.
The director's office door clicked shut,
and I snapped back to reality. "Nothing,"
I muttered, resuming my typing.
Inside his office, Greyson removed his jacket, settled into his chair, and started up his computer.
All looked normal, like nothing had happened last night.
My fingers slowly tightened around the keyboard.
He hadn't come over or spoken to me.
Just another regular workday.
So that line from my dream – had it really been him? Or was I only imagining the things I wanted to hear?
By 2 p.m., I was holding the revised report in my hands, feeling strangely anxious as I knocked on his door.
Greyson, seated at his desk, motioned me to sit, his expression composed and professional.
I stared, searching for any sign of recognition or warmth.
He scanned my report, asking a few simple questions.
But with the man who appeared in my bed nightly sitting right in front of me, my tongue felt tied, and I could barely form coherent sentences.
Closing the report, he looked at me with a slight frown.
"If you're not feeling up to it today, you can come back tomorrow."
For a moment, my heart sank.
So that gentle, caring Greyson in my dream – was he nothing but a figment of my imagination?
The voice, the physique, even those two tiny moles... all just coincidence.
I'd probably been subconsciously reshaping him into Greyson.
I dropped my head and mumbled, "Sorry," before quickly leaving the office.
The rest of the afternoon, I brooded over his professionalism and that chilly tone.
"Did he make you revise the report again?"
Valerie asked.
I nodded.
"So intense,"
she remarked.
That was our code for "intense" people who were bound for success.
"He's definitely an intense director,"
I agreed.
Right then, Greyson opened his office door and glanced at us, his gaze lingering for just a moment before he continued on.
Valerie and I went silent.
Busted!
Chapter 1
06/11/2024
Chapter 2
06/11/2024
Chapter 3
06/11/2024
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