I'm running along a wide, sandy beach. The soles of my bare feet burn every time I step away from the strip of wet sand on the edge of the dark blue water.

"Daddy, wait for me!" The crashing waves muffle my six-year-old's voice.

"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!" I keep screaming as the figure in front of me gets smaller and disappears into the horizon. "Daddy." I begin to tremble. "I can't walk that fast!"

I plop down, spraying the sand and salty water all over my white sundress. Equally salty tears run down my cheeks as the waves lap at my knees.

"Daddy, come back! Daddy." I sob, and the shudders get worse.

"I'm here." A hand on my shoulder feels comforting and familiar. I turn around and see a backlit outline of a person. The bright hot sun blinds me. "Mom?"

***

"I'm here, Amélie, wake up." The hand on my shoulder keeps shaking me. "Wake up—it's just a dream."

I squint at the person talking to me.

"Good, you are awake." Ben's sitting right next to me on the bed.

"What are you doing here?" My sleep-addled brain refuses to make the connection.

"We fell asleep." Ben moves some strands of hair off my face. "You had a nightmare. You were shouting something unintelligible, maybe calling for your Dad or Mom? Do you remember the dream?" His fingers wipe the traces of tears from under my eyes.

"I was on a beach, I think, and Dad abandoned me there? I was crying." The details are getting fuzzier as I try to recall them. "I was crying. And Mom showed up. Was I crying?" I look at Ben for answers.

"You were crying, but not anymore. I wanted to let you sleep—it's only six in the morning—but you were getting agitated. Are you feeling ok now? You can go back to sleep if you want."

Ben is holding my face in his hands, peering intently into my eyes, as if trying to read my mind.

I sniffle. Why isn't there tissue when you need one? "I think I'm ok. Thank you for waking me up." I remove one of Ben's hands from my cheek and kiss it. "I'm glad you stayed."

"I didn't intend to. I wasn't sure I would be able to sleep in a new place, a new bed, different sheets. I'm very particular about my sheets." Ben takes his hand away from me and pats the bed. "Yours are of inferior quality. I prefer the five hundred thread count Italian milled Egyptian cotton. It's a little heavier than the three hundred thread count and very cozy."

A small smile creeps onto my lips. Bedlinens might be another topic Ben's passionate about, and knowing that little fact about him makes me a tiny bit happy inside. One more puzzle piece falls into place, allowing me to see yet another facet of what makes Ben tick. The more I get to know the guy, the more I like him for who he is and not only for his handsome features. Although who am I kidding, Ben is quite a sight in the morning: naked chest, light stubble on his face only marginally shorter than his hair—I wouldn't mind waking up to that every morning.

I sit up, reach out, and pull Ben to me. He complies and lets me do it, then as if me holding him isn't enough, his strong arms wrap around my waist and he hugs me, crushing my body against his. The tight embrace and the warmth of his skin vanish any remaining tears bubbling close to the surface. The security of Ben's presence unlocks a door inside that makes the warm and fuzzy feelings pour into my body.

The nightmare recedes into the mysterious void where dreams go after you wake up. I'm awake, and there's no way I'm going back to sleep. My stomach rumbles.

"We skipped dinner last night," I mumble into his neck, not ready to break our contact for mere food.

"And showers. And brushing our teeth. I don't think I have ever gone to bed without taking a shower. I will need that toothbrush that you offered last night."

Ben doesn't let go of me either.

"We have to stop hugging if you want me to go look for the toothbrush." I giggle.

"Maybe that can wait another minute."

"See, I told you. Hugging is a good thing..." He squeezes me even harder. "...too...tight.. can't...breathe," I croak, and Ben loosens his hug, then lets me go. "Toothbrush, and how about a t-shirt? I can give you one from Angie's merch pile. Would you prefer a pink or a black one?"

I get off the bed and head to the door.

"Black, please, men's size medium should be good." He gets up and follows me into the hallway.

"Bathroom is that way." I wave my hand in the direction of the living room.

"I remember." Ben starts picking up the clothes and shoes we've discarded the night before. I rummage through the hallway closet.

"Ugh, there are only pink ones left." I cringe when I see that the box has nothing but bright pink t-shirts in various women's sizes. I pick one in a size medium, then find an unopened package with a toothbrush, and extend the loot his way.

"I think this is too small." Ben puts the t-shirt against his bare chest. "Is there a bigger one?"

"Yes." I snatch the one from his hand and give him another one in women's size large. "Better?"

"I think this one will do." He folds it neatly and goes on. "I guess you don't have any pants that would fit me?"

"Angie is closer to your height and has drawstring flannel PJ bottoms if you want to try those," I offer as a joke.

"Thank you, that would be wonderful," Ben agrees in all seriousness.

"Okey-dokey." I open the door into Angie's empty bedroom and take the two flannel PJ bottoms out of her drawer. One pair is pink with Hello Kitty faces pasted all over, and the other one is light blue with small white llamas on them. "Here you go—"I add them to the items he has in his hands "—the clean towels are on the shelf above the toilet, grab one."

"Thank you." Ben hesitates before turning to the bathroom and closing the door behind him.

I look through the meticulously folded pile of last night's clothes, remove my t-shirt from it, and put it back on, then go into the kitchen to make some coffee for me and tea for Ben.

"I look ridiculous." Ben enters the living room wearing the snug pink T-shirt and light-blue pants with the llamas. I can't help but laugh. He's right. "What would you like for breakfast?" I gasp between words. "I have some eggs and bread and jam and butter." I bite my lip to stop from laughing again.

I gesture to the tea and keep schooling my face.

"Do you have any vegetables or cheese? I can make us omelets, while you take your shower," Ben says.

"Yes, I have tomatoes and mozzarella in the fridge. You know where everything is."

I drain the remains of my coffee and am about to leave when Ben blocks my exit and backs me against the kitchen counter, his arms on both sides of me.

"Not so fast." Ben leans in and kisses me hard, invading my mouth, and my coffee breath mingles with his minty one. Joining his relentless lips and tongue, Ben's hands, in contrast to last night, linger in all the right places, plenty long enough for my heartbeat to pick up and for my lungs to run out of oxygen.

"Not laughing anymore," Ben speaks softly into my ear.

"Mmmm." Unable to form a coherent thought, I search for his mouth again.

"Now that I cured your case of giggles, it is time for you to shower and for me to make breakfast."

He disentangles himself from my bra and t-shirt, and, although his face displays no emotions, his other parts point to a different picture. I roll my lips between my teeth to stop myself from grinning. The starting and stopping is as much of a torture for him as it is for me.

***

Freshly showered, hair styled in soft waves and dressed in clean clothes, my belly full of delicious omelet, I'm running five minutes late to my class.

"When will I see you next?" I ask Ben.

He's tying his sneakers and is ready to leave with me. He looks chill with the hoodie covering up the pink T-shirt and the top of the llama pants.

"Saturday? Or you can come over Friday night after your shift and stay at my place." Ben says as if that's the most natural thing in the world. "I much prefer sleeping on my sheets."

"I guess I could." I shrug my jacket and grab my backpack and keys. "I won't get to your place until ten-thirty. I'll text you when I head over."

"Sounds great. Mike and I play videogames at my place till about eleven, so you will get a chance to meet him." Ben gets up and stares into my eyes. "You don't mind, do you?"

"Not at all." I smile at him and lay a teasing smooch on his lips, causing his eyes to narrow.

"Don't start, or you will not make it to class." He warns me and opens the door.

I'm locking up when Ben whispers into my ear.

"I think I'm ready to explore the second base more thoroughly with you on Friday, and maybe the third."

I can't wait.