For a moment, I can’t tell if I’m dreaming or not. Lachlan’s thick Scottish brogue has this way of invading my dreams, blurring the line between fantasy and reality. But, hey, how many people can say the man of their dreams is the man of their life? Even when I wake up, I’m acutely aware of how lucky I am to be Lachlan McGregor’s love. I know. How cheesy. And thank god for that, because if I didn’t have Lachlan by my side, in my bed, wherever I can have him, I would be losing my fucking mind. It’s been ten days since I threw caution to the wind and took the greatest risk of my life by leaving everything I ever knew behind in San Francisco, and came to Edinburgh on somewhat of a whim, hoping to rekindle the love I never stopped dreaming about. It’s been ten days of hot, passionate sex, long conversations and sloppy dog kisses. It’s also been ten days of second-guessing my decision, biting my nails, and missing Steph, Nicola, and my brothers back at home.
What do You think about Winter Wishes (The Play #1.5)?
