For the first time, Jason Grace was actually grateful to have the cabin to himself when he woke up that morning in Cabin One.

Shaky breath, flushed cheeks, and an image in his mind that wasn’t going away anytime soon.

Lying in his white sheets, he just stayed there—still, dazed—staring at the ceiling of his cabin, which suddenly felt way too cold compared to the dream he had just had.

This was so weird. Jason thought, throwing an arm over his eyes to block out the morning sunlight. If he didn’t have a little common sense, he would’ve cursed Apollo for bringing the sun up today.

He lay there, just wondering if the dream he’d had was some kind of cruel joke from Aphrodite or just his subconscious throwing random things together.

And yet, he still didn’t move. His brain kept replaying flashes of that dream.

And I mean seriously, Jason had never been this desperate to fall back asleep and pick up where a dream left off. And that made him feel a little guilty.

He had dreamed of you, and that was downright scandalous. I mean, you were his friend.

His friend. He was your friend. And yet, he had dreamed of you in ways he really, really wasn’t supposed to dream about a friend.

The worst part? This wasn’t even the first time. Not by a long shot.

Jason had dreamed of you before. You showed up in his mind at least once a week. Dreams of you in his arms, curled up with him in his bed under the soft sheets as he held you close. Dreams of tasting your lips, worshipping your soft skin.

The first time, he figured it was normal. I mean, you were attractive—it wasn’t exactly shocking to see guys trying to flirt with you. And if he was being honest, he got why they did.

Unfortunately, that didn’t make him feel any better about dreaming of you.

He let out a low groan, trying to block out the light streaming in through the windows in every possible way.

“Gods…” he muttered to himself.