Get you, my inner devil teases.
“I’m fine.” I pin him with a “drop it” look.
“You are so stubborn.” Shaking his head, he unscrews the cap from his bottle.
“I’m stubborn?” I level an incredulous look his way. “Have you not looked in the mirror recently, dude?”
He laughs and the sound sends warmth flooding through me.
“You’ve a lovely laugh,” I blurt out. Ohmigod! I can’t believe I said something so cheesy.
“I do?” He looks amused.
“Yep.” I’m resorting to one-word replies now for fear of what else might inadvertently tumble out of my mouth.
He stares intently at me, his fiery eyes penetrating my soul. The cord buzzes with anticipation. I might’ve forgotten how to breathe again. “You are beautiful, through and through.”
With each passing second, my heart pounds faster and faster. He inclines toward me and I move closer. Butterflies are throwing a mad party in the pit of my stomach. Like magnets, we inch closer and closer still. As my pulse throbs, he zeroes in on my lips and his eyes linger there.
I’ve imagined this moment so many times without ever really believing I’d get to experience it. Now that I’m here, seconds away from my first real kiss, I’m terrified of the strength of my emotion. I never knew it could be like this. That I could feel such a strong connection to a boy; that my body could tremble with such intense desire. And our lips haven’t even met yet.
We are a hairsbreadth from one another. I bridge the final distance and close my eyes. His fingers brush my lips and I’m tingly all over. Reopening my eyes, I see the adoration glistening in his gaze. For me.
“Ala beatra.” The words roll seductively and respectfully off his tongue.
I’ve no idea what it means, or what language he’s speaking, but it sounds beautiful.
And like a form of worship.
Though it’s possible I’m deluding myself.
He closes his eyes and presses his mouth to mine. His touch is feather soft and it unravels me. I kiss him back equally gently and he moans softly. His lips exert more pressure as he draws me in flush with his solid chest. I’ve never felt this much emotion before. It’s almost too much, but at the same time, not enough.
Gaining in confidence, I encircle my arms around his neck and melt into him, savoring the feel of his body as it presses against mine. Angling his head, he extends the kiss, and it grows in intensity and fire. I’m matching him, kiss for kiss, and my need for him is reaching an all-time high. I can’t get enough of him. He is everywhere, and yet I need more.
We cling to each other, itching to get closer as our kissing becomes more and more frantic. Our lips move together desperately, hungrily, with a passion beyond anything I’ve dreamed of.
Being with him like this is heaven.
I never knew it could be so intoxicating.
It’s as if I’m truly alive for the first time in my life.
A recognizable burning sensation starts to inflame my bones. My head swims as my vision darkens behind my closed eyelids. I know what’s coming next. It takes all of my willpower to rip my lips off Logan’s, but I’m glad to discover I have some modicum of self-preservation.
Slowly, I inhale and exhale and silently pray I don’t black out. Frankly, it’s getting embarrassing at this stage.
“Did I do something wrong?” Logan asks quietly.
“Water,” I manage to croak out.
He presses the bottle to my lips and I drink greedily. The water helps ease the internal fire.
Feeling somewhat composed, I glance shyly at him. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” I stroke his arm. “When I’m close to you, I feel like I’m on fire.”
He smiles broadly, showcasing his impressive set of dimples. Then I realize how my words could be misconstrued. “No! Not like—” I stop myself mid-denial. Who the hell am I kidding? While it does feel like I’m actually inflamed, I can’t deny the scorching blaze of hot desire that kindles inside me at Logan’s touch. So, attempting to deny his assumption is a moot point. “Okay, maybe it is a bit like that.”
He grins. “I know what you mean.”
“You do?”
“Yes.” He tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ears. “You ignite my world.” Tears prick my eyes. His tender adoration unlocks something in me. “I can’t stay away from you anymore,” he admits, pressing his lips all too briefly to my mouth.
My arms wrap around him.
“I won’t.”
“We may not have much of a choice,” I mumble.
“What do you mean?” He looks puzzled.
“We’ll probably get kicked out now.” I squeeze him tight. Despite my earlier bravado, I can’t bear the thought of expulsion. Not when this is all I’ve wanted for months. Years. What I hankered after before I even knew how to articulate my hopes and dreams.
“Nuh-uh.” He rouses me from my melancholy. “I won’t let that happen.”
“You won’t have a say.” My hands land on his sturdy chest.
“My dad has strong connections. They won’t remove me. I’ll speak to him and ensure that protection applies to you too.”
“I thought he didn’t know about me?” I say, remembering something Neve said the last time I blacked out.
“He didn’t,” Logan says, a muscle thrumming in his jaw. “But I’ve rectified that now.”
I frown, not understanding his meaning. “I don’t get you.”
“I’ve just drawn his attention to you. My actions back there have catapulted you into the spotlight. I’m so sorry, Sadie, but I couldn’t let Dante do that to you.” A pained expression crosses his face.
I rub my hands up and down his chest, anxious to ease his pain. And yeah, I love feeling him up too. “You’ve nothing to be sorry for, Logan. You protected me from him, and I’m so grateful for that.” I recoil at the recollection of Dante’s invading lips on mine.
Logan kisses the top of my head. “I promise I’ll keep you safe, Sadie. Now and always.”
“Who is going to keep Jen safe? I hate that she’s with him. What if he hurts her too?”
He tightens his grip on me. “Tell her not to sleep with him, okay?”
A rosy stain blooms in my cheeks. “What’s that got to do with it?”
He wipes his hand on his pants. “She won’t get hurt as long as she doesn’t sleep with him. Trust me on that.”
Another cryptic Loganism. Honestly, they’re stacking up at an impressive rate. “If we get to stay here,” I say, looking up at him, “what’s he going to do to me now?”
“He won’t …” Logan’s eyes glaze over and his arms stiffen around me. He doesn’t speak, staring vacantly into space.
“Logan?” I gaze intently into his face.
I wiggle in his rock-solid embrace and manage to free one of my hands. Tentatively, I stroke his face. His skin is icy cold. “Logan? Can you hear me?” Panic rims the edge of my voice. “Logan? Please say something. You’re scaring me.” My eyes dart quickly around the space in blind panic. His arms slip off my waist. “Logan? Are you all right?”
He blinks and his stunning blue eyes drill into mine. “Sorry about that, I kind of zoned out.”
My inner bullshit-o-meter sends out a glaring signal. “You were freezing cold and stiff as a board, Logan. That’s not normal.” I eye him warily.
“I’m sorry if I scared you, but I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” He kisses me softly and I’m temporarily distracted.
Logan hauls me to my feet. “I have to meet my father, but I’ll take you home first.”
I plant my hands on my hips and pin him with a stern look. “I need some answers, Logan.”
“I know you do. And if we’re going to do this, then you need to fully understand what it is you’re getting involved in. But it’ll have to wait. At least until after I’ve spoken with my father.”
He extends his hand to me.
“You promise?”
“I prom
ise.”
“Okay, then.” I take his hand. “I guess I can wait a little while longer.”
***
Logan kisses me passionately at my door before eventually tearing himself away. He appears as reluctant as I am to part. He promises to contact me later with an update. I close the door and lean against it, staring off dreamily into space. Running my fingers lightly across my swollen lips, I smile to myself.
“You’re grinning like a total idiot,” Jenna says, emerging from her bedroom. “What gives?”
Shoot. How on earth can I explain this afternoon’s drama without upsetting her? I make a quick ten-second decision. She needs to understand exactly what she’s facing with Dante. Even if it means I risk her telling him about this afterward. Logan won’t let him touch me.
“I have stuff to tell you, Jen. You’re not going to like it,” I caution.
“It’s about Dante, isn’t it?” She sounds terse.
“Yeah.” I motion toward the couch. We sit down and I fill her in, leaving out the part where Logan and I went to the waterfall cave and had a hot, steamy make-out session. No point in rubbing her nose in it.
“I knew it!” she exclaims. “This is all because I won’t sleep with him.” She puts her head in her hands. I want to assure her that it isn’t; however, I’m reluctant to confide anything else until I’ve spoken to Logan to identify what’s safe to disclose.
“Any guy that’s pressuring you into sleeping with him isn’t worth it, Jen. Stick to your guns. Don’t sleep with him,” I add, recalling Logan’s strange suggestion.
“He’s not pressuring me as such.” She looks down, messing with the hem of her shirt. “He asks me every so often if I’m ready yet. But I must have misinterpreted his need. He is a guy after all.” She stares at her feet, and I hate that she’s blaming herself.
“I have an idea,” I say, as I have an “aha” moment. “I can read your cards.”
Her head flips up and her eyes pop wide. “You said you didn’t read the cards for others.”
I had told her that when I’d first given her an insight into my unusual hobby. “I don’t, but it doesn’t mean I can’t. Forget it,” I mumble, waving my hand, “it’s probably a bad idea anyway.”
She slants toward me. “No, it’s not. It’s a fantastic idea. Please, Sadie. Read them.”
“You may not like the reveal,” I caution.
“I’d still rather hear it.”
Sighing deeply, I rise and retrieve my tarot cards from the bedroom. I hand them to Jenna and instruct her to shuffle them. “I think we’ll run with a one-card spread given this is my first time doing a reading for anyone. Besides, my grandma always said a one-card spread was the most powerful. First, you need to decide what question you seek an answer to.” I sink to my knees in front of the coffee table.
Jenna slinks down beside me and places the shuffled cards on the hard surface. “I know what I want to ask,” she says meekly. “Is Dante the one for me?”
Jenna chooses a card and positions it face up on the table. I gulp nervously. This is the tricky part. There are so many ways to interpret each card and the meaning often isn’t as obvious as it appears. Jenna dips her head and peers at the card. “Well? What does it mean?”
“It’s the Tower. It’s one of the major arcana cards indicating transformational change,” I begin to explain.
Jenna squeals and claps her hands. “He is the one!”
“Hang on, Jen. Let me continue.” I clutch her wrist and drill her with a serious look. Her excitement shrivels up and dies. “In its simplest form, it means impending disaster or upheaval, pointing to some important revelation. But we’ve got to consider the hidden meaning behind the card and what it’s trying to say.” I rub my temples and squeeze my eyes shut. I should never have suggested this. I’m too close, too involved, and not nearly objective enough. My loathing for Dante leans me toward the ominous meaning when it could signal the opposite. Put simply, it means either he’s the one for her or he’ll be her greatest undoing.
“Pick another card,” I blurt out in desperation. Grandma would turn in her grave.
“But you said—”
“I’ve changed my mind. This time let’s focus the question on you. Specifically, what should you do about the situation with Dante? Keep that thought in your mind and choose another card. Take your time, inhale slowly, and focus on tapping into your inner unconscious. Ask it to help you decide what to do.”
She throws a funny look my way but does as she’s told. She lays the card out on the table.
“It’s a Reversed High Priestess,” I explain, feeling more assured. It helps me make sense of the previous card. “This one indicates there are hidden agendas at play that you don’t yet understand, and it’s cautioning you to heed your inner instinct. Taking both cards into account, it seems to imply that Dante’s involvement in your life will have huge impact, but you aren’t aware of his motivations and you need to trust your gut instinct and listen to what it’s telling you. This is a clear caution.”
I start tidying up the cards.
“Are you telling me the truth or what you think I need to hear?” she asks.
“This isn’t an exact science. There could be any manner of meanings, but that is the interpretation that’s most believable given the situation,” I explain rationally.
“But the first card—it could mean he’s the one, right?” Her look is pleading.
I turn the question back on her. “Are you looking to hear what you want to hear or the truth?”
“I …I ... Oh God, I don’t know.” She hooks her hands behind her head.
“Irrespective of what the cards are or aren’t saying, he’s not a good guy, Jen. I feel it deep in my bones. I wish you’d break up with him.”
She stiffens. “That would suit you perfectly, wouldn’t it? If I break up with him, then you’ve free rein to go after him yourself.” She pins me with glacial look that chills me to the core.
I stare at her incredulously. Where the hell is this venom coming from? “You know I’ve no interest in him.”
Jenna rises to her full height, soaring over me.
I refuse to be intimidated. Standing up, I hold my ground.
“I know exactly what you are up to, missy.” She jabs her finger in mid-air and her face contorts unpleasantly.
In that moment, I don’t know who she is anymore. “Jen. Stop. This isn’t you talking.”
“It’s not like you’d stand a chance anyway.” Her eyes roam me from head to toe in a derogatory fashion.
Now I’m starting to get pissed. “There’s no need to be mean. This is a pointless argument.” I count to ten in my head, determined to keep a level head. One of us has to.
“I’m onto you.” She prods me viciously with her finger. “You’re one of those girls who pretend to be all sweet and innocent while scheming behind other girls’ backs. I’ll bet this has been your plan all along.”
Tears sting my eyes. “I can’t believe you’ve said something so horrible. I’m only trying to help.”
She laughs bitterly. “The truth hurts, doesn’t it?” She flicks my cheek with her finger and stalks off toward her room, slamming the door shut behind her.
I slump onto the couch, heart sore, head sore, and so, so worried. Jenna is changing right in front of me, and there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it.
***
The only contact I receive from Logan is a cursory message that reads, “All sorted. Don’t worry. See you tomorrow.”
Jenna has gone out with Dante, and having brushed off Jarod’s invitation to spend the time gorging on old TV re-runs, I’m alone with my thoughts. Worryingly so.
How can one day herald such highs and lows? So many fluctuating emotions? I focus on the memory of my amazing evening with Logan rather than focusing on the hurtful recollection of my disastrous falling out with Jenna.
I fall asleep remembering how incredible Logan’s lips felt moving against mine.
&nb
sp; I’m in the midst of a delicious dream of Logan when a sharp pinch in my arm disturbs my sleep. My eyes flash open and the room blurs in and out. My vision is hazy. I think I detect movement in the room, but I can’t be sure. Something warm spreads over my cheek and my pulse quickens. Rampant fluttering in my stomach attests to my sudden anxiety. Something prods my face and my stomach lurches warily.
My eyes waver, the room spins, and two almond-shaped pink spots appear in my vision.
Then I fall back into unconsciousness.
***
I’m groggy and moody as hell the next morning. I slept through my alarm, and Jenna left without waking me. It was only Haydn hammering on the door that roused me. Thankfully, we have a free period first thing, so I have time to hustle a quick shower and something to eat.
I only remember the nighttime incident as I’m toweling myself dry. I must be totally losing the plot now if I’m imagining such weird things. I chalk my experience up to a particularly vivid nightmare and decide to leave it at that.
Haydn shoves a muffin and apple in my hand and hauls me out the door. “Less of the manhandling, if you don’t mind,” I say grouchily. The lack of Logan’s presence is adding to my pre-existing bad mood. “Why didn’t Logan come with you?”
“He had something to attend to first.”
“When will I see him?” I’ve a real bad feeling, and I’m hoping I’m wrong about it.
“He said he’d meet you at the campus entrance at lunchtime.” I’m marginally more assured.
Haydn is his usual quiet self on the train, and I have far too much time on my hands to think. There’s so much confusion swirling inside me, and I’m sick of thinking about it. My heart twists at Jenna’s cruel words, and I don’t know what’s to become of our friendship.
Then there’s Logan. In the cold light of day, I’m starting to feel less confident about him. It’s not as if we actually agreed to anything, and the fact that he didn’t come over last night has me on tenterhooks. I hope I’m overreacting, but I’m fearful that I’m not.
Haydn and I are walking around the side of the science building, when I spy a couple of familiar faces through the window. Blood solidifies in my veins. Before Haydn can stop me, I dash to the side and peep in. Neve and Logan are engaged in conversation with Dante and the tall, dark-haired man from City Hall.
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