Wake Up To Him Chapter 03
“Brother, this is my girlfriend, Jade.”
Quentin’s gaze swept across my face: “Welcome.”
He looked identical to the man in my dreams.
His uniquely shaped double eyelids – tapered at the inner corner and wider at the outer edge – gave him an inherently cold, detached look.
He tugged at his tie first, taking a sip of water.
A drop of water slid down his Adam’s apple and under his shirt, the damp fabric clinging faintly to the curve of his chest.
Only then did he sit down at the dining table.
Everyone’s voices lowered a little, and Owen became so well-behaved he seemed like a completely different person.
During the meal, the conversation occasionally drifted to me.
“Jade, we heard from our Owen that you’ve never been in a relationship before?”
“Yes, Auntie. Owen… is my first love.”
“Oh my, it’s quite rare for a girl as pretty as you to have never dated.”
I swallowed nervously, glancing at Quentin from the corner of my eye.
He was cutting his steak, seemingly oblivious.
It made sense; he probably didn’t even know me.
That was just my one-sided dream.
As for why I dreamed of him?
It was probably just my subconscious at work.
I must have caught a glimpse of Quentin’s photo in a finance report before, and my mind turned it into these dreams.
I adjusted my mindset and played along.
“Auntie, this is my first time dating. I’m truly so lucky to have met Owen.
He’s a prominent figure at our school, and I’ve looked up to him since my freshman year.”
“Our Owen can be a bit mischievous, but he’s a good kid at heart.
Jade, I heard you’re an academic ace. Please take good care of him from now on.”
“Mhm, don’t worry, Auntie. I really like Owen.”
No, what I like is the lucky money you’re about to give me.
Suddenly, I felt a gaze fall upon me.
I instinctively looked over.
Quentin was replying to work messages, not looking at me at all.
Was it just my imagination just now?
After staying with the Parsons for a few days, I was almost used to it.
Quentin was not home most of the time.
When we occasionally bumped into each other, he would just give me a polite, distant nod.
I became increasingly certain that the dream was mine alone.
The day to meet Kiera was approaching.
Owen wasn’t satisfied with the clothes I prepared, so he had someone buy another outfit.
A slip dress, something meant only for summer.
He told me to put it on and take a few photos with him.
The fabric was very thin. Even with the villa’s floor heating, I shivered from the cold.
But Owen didn’t notice.
He was dead set on taking perfect couple photos to make his ex jealous.
The next day, I caught a cold and ran a fever.
How could Owen bother to care about me?
He was too busy drinking with his sketchy friends.
As he left, I even heard him complaining on the phone:
“She just had to get sick right now. When we meet Kiera in a couple of days, she won’t embarrass me, will she?
Do you guys have other girls to hang out with?
Just as a backup…”
I was so sick and dizzy that I could barely tell dreams from reality.
My throat ached terribly, so I got up to pour a glass of water.
The door to the study across the hall was wide open.
Looking up, I unexpectedly saw Quentin.
At this hour, Owen was out messing around, and his parents were away for work.
Quentin should have been at the office as well.
Why was he at home?
There was only one possibility—I was dreaming again.
If it was a dream, then things would be much easier.
I stumbled into the room and buried myself in his arms, overcome with grievance.
“I feel awful.”
He paused for a moment, asking, “Did you take your medicine?”
“I did.”
“Get some good rest.”
But I clung to him, refusing to let go: “I saw someone who looks exactly like you.”
“…Is that so?”
“But I know he isn’t you.”
“How do you know?”
“You only exist in my dreams. The second I see this mole on your collarbone, I know I’m dreaming.”
I unbuttoned his shirt with practiced ease.
I was far too familiar with this mole.
In my dreams, I had bitten it countless times.
I sat on his lap, tracing the mole.
But “Quentin” suddenly stopped me.
“Didn’t you say you really like him?”
“What?”
“You said you really like Owen.”
“How do you know Owe—”
My mind went blank.
All the ambiguous heat faded in an instant.
I pinched my thigh hard. It hurt.
This wasn’t a dream.
It was reality.
The man I was straddling was the real Quentin.
“Jade.”
He called my name in a low voice, the trailing note sending a shiver down my spine.
“After asking in my dreams for half a year, I finally remembered your name.”
Those words made me freeze once again.
What did he mean?
He had been dreaming too…?
My brain was about to short-circuit.
I was still straddling him, wearing my pajamas.
His clothes were disheveled, his eyes dark and bottomless.
Right at that moment.
A sudden knock came from the door.
“Bro, have you seen my girlfriend?”
Owen?
Why is he back?
“Bro, are you there?
I thought I heard Jade’s voice just now.”
Deathly silence.
“No one?
I’m coming in then.”
Owen turned the doorknob…
