Para smiled at his enthusiasm. Wow, you would almost believe he’s actually happy to be going with me. But he’s just happy that he has a chance of possibly rubbing me in my face and making me jealous of myself.
Thornton paused in the middle of the embrace, his hand resting on her back. He realized that he was not just glad for the chance to continue trying to make Pax jealous, but actually happy to be taking this particular girl to the ball. He suddenly wondered whether Pax was right not to immediately accept him back—maybe he had some unexplored issues with this strange girl.
Listening to his thoughts, her brow wrinkled in curiosity. She was surprised when he abruptly released her. He stared down at her with a sudden sincerity in his blue eyes.
“Look, Medea. I want you to know that I’m really sorry for what I did to you. Both physically and emotionally—I feel like I used you because I was in a rough spot. Then I just disappeared, leaving you injured, and you probably felt so disgusted with me. I want you to know that I’m not really like that. I don’t know how I became this person…”
“Hey,” she said softly, reaching up to gently squeeze his shoulders. “Don’t worry so much. You don’t owe me anything—I’m cool.”
He shook his head. “At the very least, I owed you a phone call.”
“I didn’t expect anything. I’ve trained myself not to expect anything whatsoever from men,” Para responded.
“We’re not all bad. I hope I can change your mind about my gender,” he said with a small smile. “Do you want to hit the mall now?”
Para glanced at her watch. “No, I’ve got to run to work soon-ish. Let’s just meet at the mall another time. Speaking of which, I could go for a cup of joe. Would you like some coffee?”
“No, thanks,” he responded.
“Well, I need some desperately!” she announced, marching into the kitchen and grabbing a pot of cold black coffee. Without getting a mug, she took a gulp directly from the pot. Para made a face as the disgusting liquid touched her tongue and cascaded down her throat. There was nothing worse than the taste of bitter old coffee. Come to think of it, how many days has this been here for? Maybe since I bought the house. I don't remember ever making coffee here. Gross!
Thornton was laughing. “I know what that face means.” He took the coffee pot from her and tossed the old liquid down the sink before placing the pot back into the coffeemaker. “Let me make you a good cup of coffee.”
She watched his hands and forearms working with the machine and felt a small smile come to her lips. There was something about this domestic scene of Thornton with the coffeemaker which was incredibly comforting to watch. Maybe it reminded her of when she was a little girl, too small to even reach the counter-top, and her big brother would make her green tea.
“How do you take it?” he asked.
“Black,” she answered automatically.
He opened the cupboard doors searching for sugar and creamer and added them to the concoction anyway. “It will taste better this way,” he said as he handed her the perfectly made cup of coffee. “My gir… my ex-girlfriend always said she took her coffee black, but she hated the taste. If I didn’t add cream and sugar she never drank more than a tenth of the cup.”
She blushed at this truthful accusation, and sipped on the coffee gratefully. “I guess I can’t fool you. This is delicious.”
“Everyone seems to think that drinking coffee black makes them seem tougher… but it tastes so bad that I’d rather be considered weak.”
Para laughed. “Aren’t you just full of wisdom!”
“No, seriously. Even my dad drinks his coffee with cream and sugar, and he’s the toughest person I know.”
“I’m convinced. I won’t have it black anymore,” she said, her eyes twinkling at him from over the top of the mug.
When she finished sipping the liquid and placed the mug down on the counter-top, Thornton moved in close to her.
“What time does your shift start?” he asked.
“In about ten minutes,” she lied. “I’m already running late, but I was so tired I thought I should grab a coffee before I fall asleep on my feet at work.”
“You poor thing. Do you need a lift?”
“No, thanks. I’ve got a car.”
“Oh, yeah? What is it?”
“What is… what?” she said, panicking. She couldn’t remember if the car parked in her driveway was one that previously belonged to either Pax or Amara.
“Your car,” he said. “I haven’t seen you drive it yet.”
“Oh, it’s just… an ancient old thing!” she said with a laugh. “I shouldn’t let you see it, it’s downright embarrassing.” She dug into her brain, but she couldn’t seem to recall what she had put into the garage when she purchased the house.
Thornton was already moving to the door which opened out into the garage, and taking a peek. She cringed, hoping she had been smart enough to get something new.
“So you’re a fusion kinda girl?” Thornton asked in surprise.
“Fusion?” Para asked fearfully, wondering if the car had given away her identity.
“Hybrids are becoming more popular,” Thornton remarked. “I don’t see what’s so embarrassing about the Ford Fusion. Although, I can hook you up with one of my company’s new completely electric models that should impress you.”
Her shoulders relaxed in relief. “Thorn, those things cost a small fortune. I couldn’t accept it.”
“My family does make them, you know,” he said, pulling out his smartphone to send a message to someone at the company. “I’ll have one sent over later today. When you get home you’ll find it in your driveway.”
“That’s actually really sweet. I’ve always wanted an electric car,” she said, sending him a grateful smile. It wasn’t exactly true. Para preferred large, imposing cars—she would have driven a tank if it were practical in the city. Between her improved teleportation and efficient flying, she had little use for vehicles altogether anymore other than pleasure. “Finally, I won't be ashamed to drive into work and park beside all of those wealthy doctors who have been making tons of money for decades.”
“You’ll be successful yourself before long,” Thornton said encouragingly. I really hope she likes it, he thought to himself. I remember my colleague saying once that if you gave a woman a nice car she would forgive anything wrong you’d done in the recent past and be especially affectionate to you in the near future.
Para restrained a chuckle at this thought. He wants affection and forgiveness? Aw. Poor little rich boy. While she wasn’t quite so impressed with his gift, in the interest of seduction (and in the interest of her con) she knew she should act as though she were incredibly impressed. “I’ve never really been around a guy like you before. A guy who can make things happen so easily.”
“It’s just money,” he said with a shrug. “I just got lucky to be born into the right family. Might as well exploit it to improve the comfort of people I care about. People who deserve it.”
“Aw,” she said softly, acting embarrassed by the flattery. She moved forward to give him a thankful peck on the cheek, allowing her hand to linger on his chest for a second too long. “You’re an incredible man, Mr. Kalgren.”
“I’m glad you think so, at least,” he answered with a sad smile. “I’ll send you some texts, see when you’re free over the weekend to go shopping?”
“Sure! Sounds great,” she answered. Once Thornton had exited the house, Para moved into her garage, entering her car and opening the automatic garage door. She still had plenty of time left in her merger, and she figured she could go for a drive in the car she had never driven. Sitting in the pleasant-smelling used vehicle, she turned the ignition key with a grin.
“It is quite fitting that I should drive a hybrid Fusion!” she joked to herself. “I am a hybrid fusion.”
Chapter 6: Professor in Preschool
It was Saturday morning and dawn was breaking. Para played with her wristbands nervously as she a
pproached her first training session with her new martial arts instructor—Asher had offered to train her a while ago, and she thought it might be good to capitalize on that to keep her ruse alive. She was hoping that she would be able to restrain her energy to keep from knocking his lights out and revealing herself. In preparation, she had sedated herself extra heavily for this occasion. Control, Para, control, she told herself as she approached the dark haired man who was stretched out languidly on a rock and gazing at the sunrise.
She felt the old familiar thrill from being in his presence without his knowledge. When he was clearer within her view she gasped loudly. “What the hell are you doing?”
Asher turned around, startled from his restful pose on the rock. “What?”
She placed her hands on her hips, her eyes flaring angrily. “Ash Burnson, just what is that infernal object in your mouth?”
“This? It’s a cigarette...”
“What in the blazes is it doing there? Since when do you smoke?”
“I—I just started a few days ago,” mumbled Asher, feeling like a guilty child who had been caught doing something wrong.
“Does your mother know you’re smoking?” Para demanded. She was sure that Amelia would be enraged if she found out about her youngest son’s new habit. “Whose cigarettes are these?” She moved closer to examine the brand, fearing the worst. The only member of their tightly-knit circle of friends and family who had ever smoked was Amara’s mother, Rose. As a toddler, once Amara had learned that cigarettes were unhealthy and that they made you sick, she had promptly marched up to her mother, kicking and screaming endlessly for hours until her mother had agreed to quit.
“Mara, please. You’re giving me such a headache,” complained an exhausted Rose as she leaned back in her computer chair.
Amara did not stop, but continued to pound her little fists into the floor.
Vincent entered the room then, in a blur of supernatural speed. “Wife! What on earth is wrong with the child? I can hear her through the walls and I am trying to meditate!”
Upon seeing her father, Amara only screamed louder.
“Child!” he admonished. “Cease this revolting ruckus instantly! Who has been killed?”
“Daddy!” screamed little Amara, pointing at Rose miserably. “Mommy, won’t stop smoking and Mrs. Amelia says it’s really bad for you! Mommy will get sick! I don’t want mommy to die!”
“For the love of god,” Rose mumbled as she stared down at the little girl in her white flowered dress and ponytail. Her face softened and she guiltily glanced at the cigarette lying in the ashtray. She suddenly jumped in surprise as the ashtray was vaporized.
“You heard the child, Rose,” Vincent roared. “You will never again touch a cigarette! For your daughter’s sake you must preserve your inferior human body. Besides, I have always found those things disgusting.”
“Really, Vince?” she asked, swiveling around in her chair to glare at him and crossing her arms. “Don’t you think you let your five year old daughter walk all over you a bit too much? You can’t give in to her every wish or she’ll grow up to be spoiled.”
“Well, I didn’t give into any of the boy’s wishes and he still grew up spoiled. I might as well be kind to one of my children.”
Rose chuckled softly, shaking her head with affection. “Aw. You’re such a softie.”
“If you dare call me...”
“Mommy, Daddy,” said Amara, tugging on Vincent’s sleeve. “Can I go play with Pax now?”
“No, Amara...” Rose saw the enraged look Vincent was giving her and she pressed the eraser end of a pencil against her temple. “Sure, sweetie.”
“Thanks!” said Amara, holding out her arms to her father.
“You want another hug?” said Vincent with a scowl.
“No way, Daddy!” she said with a giggle. “I know the rules. Once a day when no one is looking.”
“Then what do you want, child?”
“Can you please fly me to see Pax, daddy? I'm scared to fly alone.”
Vincent, unable to deny his daughter anything, had quietly cursed and picked the small girl up in his arms.
Her memory was interrupted by Asher’s excuses and explanations. “I got them from a co-worker. Medea, I don’t see what the problem is if I smoke once in a while…”
“I am a doctor, Ash! I see the insides of cancer patients on a basis which is far too regular for my liking. Do you know how many carcinogens are in cigarette smoke?”
“Dozens, I know, but…”
“No, buts!” she said passionately. “Do you think you’re immune to cancer just because you’re a deva… er, devastatingly handsome, strong, and healthy guy? Don’t give me this bullshit about smoking only once in a while! That’s how it starts!”
“Medea, I didn’t know you hated...”
“You quit smoking this instant or I’m leaving!”
“At this moment, I almost feel like you’re my girlfriend instead of Thor….”
“The cigarette is still burning,” she hissed.
Asher glanced at her in mild surprise before he tossed the cigarette to the ground and snuffed it with the toe of his boot. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, staring at her in a combination of admiration and surprise. Something in her bossy, demanding tone had reminded him a little of his mother, and a little of Amara.
“No,” she said, cringing and hitting herself in the forehead. “I shouldn’t have exploded at you like that.”
“It’s alright,” he said with a laugh. “I’m glad you care enough about me to want me alive.”
“Of course I do!” she exclaimed, stepping forward and putting her arms around his neck. She squeezed him gently in a reassuring hug, releasing an untraceable amount of prana from her hands, into his spine to give him a feeling of calmness.
“You might be the only one,” Asher said, swallowing as he returned the hug. He tried his best to suppress the feelings that her closeness aroused in him. Get a grip, man. She’s Thorn’s girl now, and she’s off limits.
Perfect, thought Para, unable to keep her pleased smirk away. “Well, teacher! As you know, I haven’t got much time but I’m really excited that you’re going to teach me how to fight. Where do we begin?”
“Let’s work a little bit on your speed and endurance by running laps around this field,” said Asher, gesturing to the lush hilly green field.
She nodded. “Will you run with me, Ash?”
“Of course,” he answered, “but don’t feel ashamed if you can’t keep up. I’m really, really very fit. Just try your best to keep me in sight!”
“I will,” she said smiling. She had only asked Asher to run with her so that she could get an idea of what he considered ‘normal’ to set the maximum pace for her. When Asher began to lightly jog up the inclines and dips in the grassy field, Para easily kept pace jogging beside him. “You weren’t kidding,” she commented, pretending to be out of breath. “You’re super-fast. I am trying my best to keep up with you.”
“You’re doing great, Medea,” he said with an encouraging Burnson smile.
They ran like this for about ten more minutes, engaging in light conversation before Para stopped and placed her hand on her knees, dramatically acting like she was gasping for breath.
“Oh… my… goodness,” she said between huge fake wheezing breaths. “You have so much endurance. You must work out really often.”
“I used to, but it also just comes naturally to me,” he said, doubling back to where she had stopped. “Let me try to teach you how to use your prana, now that you’ve got it pumping through your body and you can really feel it.”
“Prana?” she asked.
“Yeah—it’s like this special energy inside all of us, at our very center. All of martial arts is based on controlling this energy.” Asher sat on the ground, cross-legged, and Para smiled, sitting directly across from him. “Try to relax every muscle in your body,” he said, holding out his hands before him. “Focus on the energy deep i
n your belly, and try to draw it out through your hands.”
A small glow began to form in the middle of Asher’s hands as he demonstrated. Para smiled at his infinite patience and rudimentary explanation. He was such a good, sweet, loving boy. How could he ever be cruel? If only she could have read his mind sooner and understood the reasons why… but it was done. It was over. Once she had cared about his happiness, and she would have done anything to make him smile. Now all she had to hold onto was her little game. She didn’t care any longer whether either or both of them were miserable; she just cared about winning the game.
“Do you think you can bring your energy out like this, Medea?” he asked gently.
She couldn’t help feeling like a professor in preschool. “I’ll try my best, Ash.” Holding her hands out in front of her, she tried her hardest not to release the prana which her body naturally begged for her to expend. She made sounds of straining, and twitched her fingers rapidly as though she were trying very hard.
“Oh! It’s not working. I can’t do it,” she complained in a defeated tone.
“You totally can. I can feel that there is a strong energy inside you, Medea.” He leaned closer, looking down at her hands and back up at her eyes. “I could feel it from the first moment we met. I know you can do this! I know. So just concentrate and let it flow through your body!”
“I can’t!”
“Feel the energy! Feel it moving through your body!” Asher reached out and placed two fingers on her stomach. “It starts here, in your center. Your solar plexus.”
He slowly moved his fingers around to her back, and pressed the same two fingers at various points along her spine. “The energy flows through your spinal cord, becoming stronger and stronger as your nervous system forces it into a smaller, more concentrated form…”
He dragged his fingertips over her shoulders and slowly down her arms. “Feel the energy moving through your arms, through the channels of your body. It’s deeper than blood; it’s a special, tingly, magic feeling. Feel the power and let it travel outside of your body through the palms of your hands!”
Thirty Minutes to Heartbreak Box Set (Books 1-3) Page 68