“If you don’t believe it’s Jay, then you must have some inclination as to what it really is.”
“I do. At least a bit.”
Another scream came from behind us, sounding human. Nothing but a wall separated us from the others—I hoped the wall would hold.
“I think Jay is short for something, but short for what is where I’m at a loss. If you’re a Jennifer, I’m a Cletus.” He laughed before he continued. “You’re not a Jenna or a Jessica or a Jillian or a Julie. You can’t be a Juliet, or this would all just be too ironic.”
Fresh from having read R&J, I knew how closely our story, up to this point, mirrored theirs. Of course, I hoped ours would only parallel the beginning, and none of the rest.
“I’ve gone through about every J name I’ve ever heard, for both women and men, and none of them are right.”
“What makes you so sure of that?” I asked.
“Because you’re not like anyone else. Your name must fall into that same category as well.”
“If I tell you, all of your fun trying to guess would be over.” My eyes closed when one of his hands moved to my waist. After a moment, it seemed to almost melt into me.
“There are other fun ways to get the truth out of you.” His voice was a few notes lower, which did nothing to make me feel like my heart wasn’t about to give out.
My back pressed harder into the wall, needing it to keep me upright. “What ways?”
“Ways like persuading it out of you.”
When he stepped closer, he put all of his body against all of mine. I’d never felt a man’s body like this before. I’d never experienced the way the hard planes and straight lines of a man’s body fit together with the soft curves and subtle valleys of a woman’s. Almost like a key fitting into a lock. I’d never felt so strong or so weak, the insatiable desire to both pull him to me in passion and push him away in precaution.
“How would you persuade me?” The voice coming from me didn’t sound like mine. It sounded like it belonged to a stranger . . . probably because I felt like a stranger to myself.
Rylan’s other hand found my cheek. His breath on my lips, he whispered, “Like this.”
Just as I braced myself to feel his mouth on mine—braced myself to withstand the kiss or be consumed by it, I couldn’t say—I flew backward. I’d broken through the wall supporting me, and Rylan broke through it with me. His arms wrapped around my head out of instinct as I tumbled to the floor. Thanks to the brace his arms had formed around me, the impact didn’t do much but jolt a surprised gasp from me.
Rylan managed to keep his weight from crushing me as he came crashing down. “Are you okay?” The low notes in his voice were replaced with the higher ones of worry.
“I’m okay, but that door’s not going to be when I’m done with it.” Glancing over his shoulder, I saw the “wall” I’d been shoving my back into for support was either a cheap door or I was stronger than I thought.
“But look at this place it spit us into.” Rylan slid just off me and took in the room around us.
There was just enough light to see that the room was either deceptively large or small. It was hard to tell thanks to the mirrors angled over every square inch of it. Even the floor was one giant sheet of reflective glass. That, added to the fog drifting through the room, made the entire experience other-worldly.
“A mirror room.” No matter which mirror I focused on, I saw Rylan hovering above me . . . although the best view was the one from my own eyes. “Everywhere I look, I see you.”
I didn’t have to imagine his smile any longer—I could see it now. I could watch it form higher on one side, bleeding into his eyes and the creases of his forehead.
“And now you understand what the past two weeks have been for me.”
Just like that, the mirror room was forgotten, along with the fog around us. All there was in the whole world was him and me. His body pressed into mine. His lips hovering above mine.
“You were saying earlier? Right before I threw us through a door and onto the floor?”
When he leaned farther over me, his hair fell forward, almost grazing my face. “I wasn’t about to say anything.”
His lips lowered to mine. For one fraction of an instant, I froze, my whole body going rigid from my inexperience. I was a woman, and the most I’d done with a man was hold his hand . . . and that had only been two weeks ago with the very one whose lips were encouraging mine right now.
“Turn it off,” he whispered. “Where your brain stops, let your body pick up. Don’t think about it—live it.”
I don’t know if he sensed I needed the coaching or if he felt the conflict inside of me, but his words worked. Without even knowing I possessed one, I found the switch and flipped it off. The worries and insecurities vanished until my mind was empty. In its void, my body filled in. My lips met his this time, and my hands roamed his body like I was trying to memorize his every muscle and sinew.
Even as we kissed, I felt his smile slip into place. That soon ironed out as we were both gasping for breath. Then his pace slowed, and instead of trying to fit as many kisses into a limited space of time as we could, we kissed like we had all of eternity and then some. Our lips lingered before pulling back, our touches more intentional. The moment stretched out until there was no end or beginning in sight.
After my hurried investigation of his body, my hands found the ravine of his spine and planes of his chest as their favorite resting spots. I discovered how when I pressed my lips heavily into his and pulled at them with the lightest amount of suction, he trembled. I learned that when he just barely separated my mouth with his as his fingers curled into mine, I felt something come to life I’d never felt before. Something that felt like it was going to crumble me into a million pieces . . . right before building me back into a million stronger pieces.
In the span of one kiss, I’d gained a comprehensive knowledge in the art. But when his lips pulled back, I wasn’t ready for my education to be over.
“Are you persuaded?” he asked with a smile that bordered on smug. Likely because of the flush I could feel and the way I couldn’t seem to catch my breath.
“Thoroughly,” I replied, irritated he could manage an entire sentence and I couldn’t get out a word without stopping to take a breath. “You still want to know my name? My real name?” Okay, that was better. I only had to pause for two breaths that time.
“Of course I do.” When he moistened his lips, I almost pulled him back to him. “But not right now.”
My eyebrows came together. “Wasn’t that the whole reason behind all of this ‘persuading’?”
“In a way.” He skimmed his fist up and down my side. “But I don’t want you to tell me the truth because I kissed you. I want you to tell me the truth because you trust me.”
“I do trust you.” I locked my eyes with his so he could see the truth, if he couldn’t already sense it.
“But still, I’m a crazy good kisser, and no doubt your mind is a bit bewildered. I’d hate for you to say something you’re going to regret in the morning.” To prove it, his mouth covered mine one more time.
When his lips left mine, I sighed, my chest rising and falling as fast as it had been a minute ago. “You’re right. My brain is definitely more than a bit befuddled thanks to that first kiss that, no doubt, put every other first kiss in the history of kisses to shame.” I supposed my brain was still shut off if I had the guts to admit that. But I didn’t regret saying it . . . which probably meant I’d flicked off my self-conscious switch as well.
Rylan’s head tipped to the side as he studied me with something new in his eyes. He lifted his hand to my lips, letting his finger trace them. “I guessed you were . . . inexperienced . . .” I raised an eyebrow at him, and he shook his head. “It was the innocent look in your eyes. It’s easy to recognize when so few women possess it.”
His clarification appeased me, although I wondered what innocence he’d so easily distinguished in my eyes that I
couldn’t see when I looked in the mirror.
“But I never would have guessed this would be your first kiss. I’d have tried harder,” he added with a wink.
When I wet my lips, I found them sensitive and . . . puffy. Apparently kissing came with physical tolls. “If you’d tried any harder, I would have had a coronary. And there’s no need to pretend this was your first kiss, too . . . if you were going to. Not everyone can be as ‘lucky’ as I was being shut in away from life.”
Rylan’s smile didn’t falter. “It’s that worldly, jaded look in my eyes that gave me away, wasn’t it?”
“It gets you prolific kissers every time.” I slid a chunk of hair behind his ear before tracing his jaw. I couldn’t stop touching him.
“You’re right. It wasn’t my first kiss.” He grabbed my hand and pressed a kiss into the palm. “But it was my first kiss with you, so it might as well have been.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “You still talk too smoothly for your own good.”
“That’s probably true,” he said around a low chuckle. “But I’ve never said a single word to you that’s been a lie or exaggeration.”
Another thick stream of fog burst into the room and settled around us as I heard a familiar voice shouting at someone to not let anyone else inside. The voice, along with the urgency in it, had me bolting up, pulling Rylan along with me.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
“You’ve got to get out of here, that’s what’s the matter.” I shoved him toward the same door we’d burst through. Since it sounded like Luca was coming in from the main entrance, hopefully no one would notice Rylan going out the back.
“I’ll go wherever you want as long as you come with me.” He wedged himself in front of the door and turned to face me.
“If I could go anywhere with you, I would . . . but I can’t. They’re looking for me. If they find you with me, they’ll make you wish you’d never been born. Once they find out which side of The Line you belong on, you’re going to wish the universe had never been created.” I reached for the door handle, wondering why he wasn’t grasping the gravity of the moment.
His hand came to rest over mine, stalling it. “I belong on whatever side of The Line you’re on. So there.”
When I heard Luca’s voice again, it was closer. From the sounds of it, he wasn’t alone. “Whoever finds her, bring her to me immediately.”
Rylan had his gun pulled from the small of his back before I saw him flinch. My heart went into my throat as I imagined a gunfight between Rylan and Luca in the haunted house.
“He’s trying to protect me too.” I put two fingers on the side of the gun’s barrel and pressed it away from where it was aimed at the door into the mirror room. “You’re on the same side in that regard, and on the other side in the other regard.”
“Any man chasing you with a gun is not on the same side as me. In any regard.” Rylan’s response was sharp, his eyes sharper. When Luca’s voice boomed even closer, Rylan’s index finger slid to the trigger, caressing it with the familiarity of a long-time lover.
“He’s my personal guard. His orders are to never let me out of his sight, so he’s looking for me like both my and his life depends on it. Because they do.” I braced my hands around Rylan’s face, hoping to funnel some of the adrenaline throbbing through him.
“Your personal guard?” His voice wasn’t quite flabbergasted, but it was close. His face gave nothing away.
I nodded. “Yes, one of them.”
“One of them?”
I nodded again, glancing over my shoulder, I half expected Luca to burst into the room at any moment.
“Jay . . .” Rylan’s eyes dropped from the doorway to mine. The confusion in them was palpable. “Who are you?”
Luca’s voice boomed, “Clear!” as he made his way from room to room. From the sounds of it, at least two other guards were clearing rooms from the other direction.
“You had your chance to find that out a few minutes ago, but now . . .” I reached for the doorknob, and I was fast enough to twist it open. “I’m afraid you’ll have to wait.”
He extended his revolver like it was an extension of his body. “I think this will hold him off long enough for you to tell me who needs a personal guard at all times. Even when she’s on the right side of The Line.”
Putting my hands on his chest, I shoved him through the doorway. I didn’t realize how strong I was until that moment. “You might have a bigger gun, but he’s got more men.”
“More muscle doesn’t mean victory.”
“No, but all it takes is one bullet to mean defeat, and I’m not ready for that tonight. Or any other night in the near future.” Shoving him again, I drove him farther out of the mirror room. “Please? I’ll be okay, but you won’t be if they catch you . . . which means I won’t be okay either.” When he sighed, his finger falling away from his trigger, I smiled. “So really, it’s a selfish request. My okayness is directly linked to yours from now on. You’re okay, I’m okay. You’re not okay, I’m not okay. See how it works?”
“Kind of like a symbiotic relationship.”
When he stuffed his gun back into its hiding spot, I practically shivered in relief. “Exactly like a symbiotic relationship.” I opened the outside door we’d come through and shoved him through it so forcefully, he almost stumbled. “Now would you get out of here before the Italian men catch the Irish man getting all symbiotic with the woman they’re supposed to be protecting?”
Rylan smirked at me when he’d made it down the stairs. “Only because you asked so nicely.”
“Bye,” I mouthed.
I watched him disappear around the side of the haunted house before rushing back into the mirror room. I’d no more than closed the door behind me and taken two steps inside when Luca burst through the door. When his eyes landed on me, a mixture of relief and irritation swirled inside of them.
“I’m sorry,” I said. Despite being annoyed that I had a guard when I moved about anywhere, I didn’t blame Luca for it. He was a decent man doing his job, and he didn’t deserve to be punished for my mistakes. His fate was in my hands, and that seemed unfair in every way. I’d always known that, but its impact only really settled in just now.
“What was that?” he asked as he crossed through the mirror room, his eyes scanning me for any signs of injury. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. This was the last place we had left to search—mainly because I figured a haunted house would be the last place you’d hide in.”
“You’re right. A haunted house is the last place I’d normally hide in.” I scanned the mirror room again. With Rylan gone, it no longer seemed magical. It was nothing more than a small room hosting a cheap parlor-trick. “I just wanted to . . . I just needed . . .” To be alone with Rylan? A first kiss? To fall even further for a man from the other side? To put my life in the hands of my family’s sworn enemy? Since none of those explanations would keep Luca from busting something, I said, “I just needed to be alone for a while.”
Luca sighed as he rubbed at his temples. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen his iron facade crumble before. “Have you had enough being alone for a while? Because you know your father would skin us both alive if he found me on one end of this party and you on the opposite.”
The only reason I’d wanted to be alone was gone now. “Yes, I’m ready to get back to the party with a smile on my face and a guard at my heels.”
LUCA WAS STILL sighing as we left the haunted house. “If this is anything what it’s like having a daughter, I’m never having children.”
I nudged him. “My case is a little different than what your future daughter’s might be like. Thankfully for both of you.”
Luca paused, cocking his head to the side. “Do you really think I’d protect my own daughter any less voraciously than I do you?”
I didn’t need long to think about my answer. “No, Luca. No, I don’t.”
After holstering his gun, Luca followed me out of the haunted house
. By the time we’d made it outside, it looked like the whole incident was forgotten.
“So? What now?” he asked as he followed me through the crowd.
“Since I’m guessing you’re not up for another round of hide and seek . . .” I lifted an eyebrow.
His answer was a tightening of his jaw.
“Why don’t we get something to eat and go watch the people who’ve drank too much make spectacles of themselves on the dance floor?” I was already heading for the corn dog stand. It seemed making out worked up a considerable appetite.
“You go. I follow. That’s generally the way of it. At least up until just now.” Luca’s dry sense of humor had only gone dryer in the wake of my temporary escape.
We didn’t say anything else as I waited in the corn dog line, which was surprisingly long considering I was swimming in Italians who made it seem like anything other than Italian food was a sacrilege. Maybe the carnival vibe or the laughter and lightness in the air was driving staunch marsala and piccata eaters to the fried-corn-covered-hot-dog line. When I made it the front, I ordered four jumbo corn dogs and a couple of iced teas.
“All of that evading must have made you hungry,” Luca grumbled as the concession employee stacked my drinks and food onto a cardboard carton.
“Famished,” I said, collecting my goods and heading for the tables staggered around the dance floor. “But I only got one for myself.”
“Then who are the other three for?”
Grabbing one of the foil-wrapped corn dogs that were half the size of my forearm, I chucked it back at Luca. “For the person who needs to eat some artery-clogging food, spill a few drops of mustard on his pristine suit, and remember that a mouth can be used for something other than scowling.” Looking over my shoulder, I stretched my mouth so wide he could probably see every single one of my teeth. “Like smiling.”
Luca’s scowl became a notch more severe. “I’ll smile when I get assigned to someone who doesn’t make it exceedingly difficult to protect her.”
Crossing Stars Page 11