Read Online Sleepless by Cyn Balog - Free Book Online

Definitely. But … a hundred freaking years. Holy hell.” He rakes his hands through his hair and sighs.
    I motion to Julia’s window. She’s going to bed early tonight.She’s wearing my favorite simple loose white gown and looks beautiful; I have to hold myself back from going in there and conducting my business. It’s no longer mine. “If you’d like, you may seduce Julia tonight,” I say, somewhat saddened by the prospect.
    His eyes fill with hunger. I knew he’d be eager, but I had no idea how eager. He practically pushes me aside and storms through the window, rubbing his hands together greedily. He stalks to her—he still hasn’t gotten to floating yet—and I move to the other side of the bed. He takes a handful of sand from the pocket of his jacket and begins to spread it over her.
    “Not too much, only a bit,” I advise, clenching my teeth. “Or else she will sleep far too long.”
    He raises his eyes to me for a moment and then continues his work. Julia is lying on her stomach, which she does often, so I cannot see her face. I cannot tell if it’s working. He puts his hand over her and begins to run it the length of her body. His fingers are like plump sausages and move awkwardly, which is probably why, after a half hour or so, she rolls onto her back and exhales, still awake. Poor Julia. His hands stop in place and begin to shake.
    “Don’t touch—”
    “I know!” His voice is a frustrated whisper. He starts to move his hands again. I want to tell him, Gently, gently , but I know he’d meet any of my attempts to help with the same unpleasantness, so I bite my tongue.
    Another fifteen minutes pass. It’s excruciating. I am told there will come a day when, as a human, I won’t put the needs and worries of these women before mine, but right now that seems utterly impossible.
    She turns onto her side and then sits straight up in bed, checking the clock. I, too, check the clock; it’s likely Vicki or Evangeline is waiting for us. When Julia looks around the room, Mr. Colburn jumps backward, then studies her. Waves a hand in front of her face. She doesn’t flinch. He waves his hand again, more fiercely this time, then screams, “Hello!” loudly enough to rattle my bones. No response. He shakes his head. “Wow. She really can’t see or hear me.”
    I motion with my chin. “Keep to your work.”
    He steps back, his face stone. Giving up. Clearly he isn’t used to being ignored.
    I move to the bed and begin to run a hand over her, and within minutes, she is asleep. “See?” I say. “You were almost there.”
    He glowers. “She really, really doesn’t know I’m here.”
    “Yes, but she might dream of you,” I offer as consolation, though I know that Julia’s dreams have rarely, if ever, been of him. It’s most always those magnificent buildings, their tops hiding amongst the clouds. “Would you like to see her dreams?”
    He cocks his head. “I can do that?”
    “Sometimes. Just close your eyes, and think of her sleeping there.” He does as I tell him to, and I do the same. “Can you …”
    He’s silent for a moment. “Oh, yeah … cool. She’s … at the food court. At Sweetie Pi’s. That’s where she works. She’s making … ha. She’s making an egg cream. This is her dream? Seriously?”
    “Yes.” I watch the scene as he narrates it. So that is her place of employment. In all those times of visiting that placein her dreams, I’d never realized that. As she fills a cup with seltzer, I see someone approach. At first I think it is Mr. Colburn, which startles me; I have not yet shown him how to insert himself into her dreams. But then I realize it is another young man.
    “What the—” Mr. Colburn breathes. “What the hell is he doing in Julia’s dream?”
    “Who is he?” I ask.
    “My best—” he begins, his words clipped, but he stops midsentence as the young man drifts across the counter so that the space between him and Julia is nonexistent. His open mouth