Gossamer

by Pizziltola, Renita

  Curled up on my side, I faced his direction. Had I fully thought this through, I would have turned the other way because the moment he stepped out, lust replaced my sleepiness. Damn. Why did I keep letting him get to me like this?

  As I stared at him, all I could see was the way his shirt clung to his damp body. His hair looked messy from being towel dried and he hastily ran a hand through it. He reached up, hanging his towel off a door hook, and my eyes traced the lines of his body. He tossed his bag onto the counter, and I admired his well-defined arms. When he stopped moving, my gaze shifted to his face to see why, and I realized he had caught me staring at him. I should have been embarrassed, but he looked at me with such intensity, I wasn’t. Something in his eyes made me feel as if he liked the idea of me watching him. Electricity radiated between us and the air crackled around me. I couldn’t look away.

  His gaze drifted to my mouth. I had been unconsciously biting my lower lip and stopped when I realized it. He looked in Conor’s direction, then back to me. I could see hints of desire pulsing through him mixed with what I assumed was self-control. He inhaled deeply, let it out then reluctantly turned away. Too late. My whole body was very awake.

  I closed my eyes again and began counting from one hundred to one, my trick to put myself to sleep. When I reached seventy-four, my breathing slowed. Its steady rhythm assured me sleep was near. I heard Conor and Grant talking in the distance. Conor told Grant something about securing the perimeters. I was down to fifty-eight. My mind drifted slowly to sleep. In the distance, I thought the door opened and closed softly but my body was so heavy with sleep I couldn’t turn to check. Forty-three, forty-two, forty-one...

  * * * *

  Once again I found myself in the heavily wooded forest. I advanced slowly not sure where to go, something was wrong this time–the normal pull was absent. Everything was hazy making it easy to get lost in a place like this. No matter which way I looked, I saw the same thing. Trees, large ash and oak trees surrounded me. It disoriented me and I had no idea which direction to travel. I had never needed to make that decision before, my dream just took me where I was supposed to go. Part of me wanted to run but I didn’t know where while another part of me was drawn in by curiosity. I had my normal déjà vu feeling, having visited this place many times before, yet it was different.

  Is it always this quiet? A forest like this should have animals. Of course I didn’t mind avoiding them if there were any. It was too quiet though.

  Suddenly, something called to me. Finally, I could sense the pull that had been lacking from my dream, but this one felt off. I couldn’t describe it. Instead of the peaceful tug urging me forward, someone snaked a metal wire around me and yanked. My stomach gave an uneasy twist. Taking a deep breath, I decided to give myself over to the calling. After all, I’d had this dream many times before. I was pretty sure I knew where I was headed. The oak tree. Always the oak tree.

  I took several careful steps forward even as my body was reluctant to move. Every instinct told me to turn around, but I had to know what summoned me. I felt a bit unsettled but couldn’t resist.

  I approached a large tree, but instead of my usual oak it was an ash. I felt pretty confident this was where the call came from, so I placed my hand on the tree and slowly peeked around it.

  I found a small clearing. The air was still thick, and even though I knew it was daytime, the sun did not shine through the canopy overhead. Next to my large oak tree on the other side of the clearing stood a woman with her back toward me. Had she been on the other side of the oak tree in my last dream?

  She had extremely long, blonde hair, almost silvery. The pale strands lay like silken threads down her back in stark contrast to her black attire. She wore a dress with sleeves that puffed at the shoulder then ran tight down to her wrists. The gown tucked in at the waist and billowed out into a full skirt which touched the forest floor. The thick, heavy fabric seemed as if it would weigh down her slender silhouette. Her petite frame looked delicate, and I could tell she was young. She moved her head a little to the side, her hair forming a shimmering veil obscuring any real view of her face. She sensed my arrival and spoke. Her soft, delicate voice drew me in. I took another step forward to hear her better.

  Her sweet voice spoke again, “They have found you. They have found you, Kyla.”

  How did she know my name? And what did she mean they found me? Did she mean Grant and Conor? They had been looking for me, or maybe she meant Matt. He had found me for The Rite. Either way this wasn’t new information. Yet, I suspected I needed to know something more. Her soothing voice beckoned, and I stepped closer and closer.

  Somewhere behind me, I heard a shout. It was a woman’s voice but this one was firm. “Kyla, stop!” I froze at the command. “Turn around!” The voice demanded.

  The lady by the tree yanked her head up at a speed no human could match. With her neck craned, she turned her head side to side with quick, sharp, birdlike movements as if trying to place where the other voice had come from.

  An uneasy feeling grew within me. Something wasn’t right. I took a careful step backward and a twig snapped beneath my weight. She whipped her head around at the sound. Her white, blonde hair fanned out around her with the rapid motion, finally settling down and exposing her face.

  I screamed.

  * * * *

  “Shh, shh. It’s just a dream. It’s over now.”

  When I opened my eyes, I sat upright in Grant’s strong embrace. He hushed me again and ran his hand over my hair. Like a scared child, I trembled in his arms. I took a deep breath and slowly sat back.

  He kept his hands on my shoulders as he eyed me cautiously. His right hand tenderly touched my cheek, and he wiped away a tear. I hadn’t realized I had been crying.

  The haggard face of the lady appeared in my head again. My skin prickled. Her eyes, her blank white eyes, bore into me.

  He smoothed my hair again. “Want to talk about it?” I shivered and vehemently shook my head no. “Okay, that’s fine. You’re safe, you know. I would never let anything bad happen to you.”

  His eyes were full of sincerity. My throat tightened as more tears threatened. I spoke barely above a whisper. “I’m scared to go back to sleep.”

  With a compassionate touch, his hand caressed my cheek. “I can sit here with you.”

  My gaze darted around the room, like a kid searching for the boogeyman and at this moment, I was not above having someone check under the bed for monsters. My mind was scared and awake, but my tired body longed for more sleep. I looked back at Grant and finally conceded.

  “Okay, but promise you will stay right here?” Even my words were child-like.

  He smiled and gave me his word.

  I glanced down at the pillow and back at Grant. Assured he planned on staying put, I laid my head down and curled into a ball. He leaned his back against the headboard and lifted his feet onto the bed. He kept a respectful amount of space between us, but right now I didn’t want space. I was still terrified and wanted someone to just hold me and tell me it would be all right. The lady’s voice that had seemed sweet in the dream was now sickening sweet and haunted me. I lay there, my body wanting sleep, but terrified to close my eyes.

  I flipped onto my back and stared up at Grant. “I can’t sleep. I’m scared.” My voice was barely audible but he heard me. He turned his body in my direction and propped himself up on his elbow.

  His fingers lightly touched my cheek. “That bad, huh?”

  I nodded my eyes filling with tears. Grant looked pained to see me so scared.

  “I can protect you out here, but I guess I can’t keep away the bad dreams.” His tone was apologetic.

  I attempted a smile. “I don’t expect you to. It was just so real, you know?”

  His thumb caught an escaping tear. I gazed into his clear blue eyes. They flicked to my mouth and back to my eyes. I was frightened and longed for him to just wrap me in his arms and make me forget about everything but him. I willed
him with all my power to kiss me right then. His gaze went back to my mouth, and he seemed to fight an internal battle, but finally desire won out. He kissed me. It was gentle, sensual–even better than I imagined it to be–and it left me breathless. Realizing what he’d done, he started to back away.

  Finally, I got the kiss I’d been waiting for and he played the gentleman. No way was I going to let this opportunity slip away. I placed my hand on his neck and brought his mouth back to mine. He seemed surprised for a second but didn’t hesitate.

  His lips joined mine in a sweet kiss. The nearness of his body brought back the overwhelming desire I’d felt earlier for him. As I drew him closer, the intensity picked up and threatened to consume us both.

  Our kisses turned hard as he lay on top of me. His hands roamed my body, lips never leaving mine. My skin burned from the trail of fire he created as he ran his fingers down my hips and then back up my shirt exploring every curve. My back arched in response. He pressed into me, triggering a soft sigh that I guessed chipped away at what little self control he had left. His other hand flew to the button of my jeans. He fumbled to get them undone, but hesitated, maybe waiting for my reaction. I raised my hips, giving him the go ahead, and he slid them off.

  I tugged at his shirt which he yanked off and tossed aside. My hands lingered on his stomach until his mouth returned to mine. In one fluid motion, he turned onto his back, taking me with him, leaving me straddling him.

  He ran his hands down the sides of my body, and rested them on my hips. “God, you’re beautiful.”

  I melted into his words. The urgency faded and he proceeded with a tenderness that only increased my desire. He guided my mouth to his and kissed me, then shifted so we were both on our sides with my leg thrown over him. His hand brushed the underside of my thigh as he urged me closer. Heat radiated from his skin, scorching my fingertips as they skimmed his back. His warm lips traveled from my neck down to my collarbone, and I was in complete bliss as he showered me with kisses. Just then we heard a knock. Startled, we both looked in the direction of the door. We froze, half-expecting it to open. The quiet knock repeated.

  Grant looked at me, his gaze trailing down my body, then back to the door. He sighed and muttered something under his breath. He rolled off me and sat up. His shirt lay discarded to the side of the bed. He reached for it, sliding it back on and ran his fingers through his hair as he walked to the door. With his hand on the doorknob, he glanced back at me, probably ensuring I was decent, and then opened the door.

  Conor stepped in. “Hey man, sorry. I left my key–” He paused. He studied me sitting up in bed, probably disheveled and flushed, then Grant. Conor’s eyes filled with amused curiosity. “Sorry to, uh, bother you.”

  I blushed.

  “She had a bad dream,” Grant quickly offered.

  “Uh huh,” Conor replied, clearly not buying the cover. “Well, I checked the area, and we need to talk. I think we need to head in a different direction.” He walked toward the small circular table and pulled out something. “I picked this up at the front desk. I think it’s for sightseers, but will give us a basic layout of the area.” He spread the map on the table.

  Grant looked at me, hesitated, then walked over to the table.

  I watched them as they talked. Conor’s tone was animated as he spoke about what he had discovered, pointing at the map several times. Grant seemed clearly distracted. He nodded and answered questions, but his eyes kept returning to me.

  I continued to watch them, but eventually my body reminded me of my much needed sleep. With my head back on the pillow, I thought about his kisses and warm body against mine. I was surprised at my boldness tonight. I smiled. Lexie would be proud. I had dated a few boys, nothing serious, and we had kissed but it had been very PG. I don’t know what it was about Grant that made me want him so much. It just felt right, and I hoped he felt the same way. A shiver ran down my spine.

  The room was bright now as they studied the map, and hearing their voices gave me a sense of security. My body begged for rest as I snuggled into my pillow. At some point, I drifted off to sleep.

  * * * *

  When I woke, it was to the smell of coffee. I sat up and looked around.

  “Hey.” Grant sat casually in a chair, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He rested his arm on the small circular table that had been their base of command last night. The map was gone, replaced by three cups of coffee and a box of doughnuts.

  “Conor got us some breakfast. He wasn’t sure if you liked coffee, so he got you one, just in case.” In the background, I heard the shower running.

  I eyed the coffee. I loved the smell of coffee almost as much as I loved drinking it. The caffeine called to my still tired body. “Well, I usually prefer it in IV form, but I guess I can drink it this morning.”

  Grant laughed. “Noted. Prefers intravenous coffee.”

  I giggled and made eye contact with him. The events from the night before came flooding back to me. In the light of day, I became self conscious about the whole thing. He obviously sensed my mood shift and studied me for a moment then stood, walked to the bed and sat down. I pressed my knees to my chest to make room for him. My feelings were muddled. Part of me wanted to finish what we started but the other part of me was embarrassed by last night’s boldness.

  He seemed to struggle to find the right words. “I’m sorry about last night. It’s my job to get you home safely and that’s it.” The words stung. Did he think it was a mistake? “I shouldn’t have crossed those lines.” He ran a hand through his hair and got to his feet. “I don’t know what got into me last night. It won’t happen again.”

  My heart shattered, and I looked down. How could he think last night was a mistake when I thought it was wonderful? I really believed he had feelings for me and it wasn’t just lust driven.

  Then I remembered something. Right before he kissed me I had been willing it to happen. Had I compelled him to do it? Bile rose to my throat. Oh God, I had forced him into acting, and I was such an idiot to think it was more, especially after I had been told I had the ability to do that. I chewed on my bottom lip and could feel tears taking shape in my eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Kyla. I hope you aren’t too upset with me. I value your friendship, and I hope I didn’t ruin that.”

  Friendship? I wanted to throw up. I pushed everything he had just told me deep down inside. I couldn’t think about it now. I knew if I did I would lose it. So instead, I internalized the pain and forced a smile. I looked at him.

  “No harm done. I had a bad dream and it had been a long day for both of us. We were just caught up in the moment. It’s silly. We should just put it behind us.”

  Grant flinched. My fake smile must have looked pathetic. Maybe he knew how I actually felt.

  He made his way back over to the table and sat down. “Come, eat some breakfast with me.” His voice sounded stiff and awkward although he tried to come off as light and casual.

  I sat there a minute trying to process what had just happened. He finally looked over at me and made eye contact. I quickly threw on a smile. “Well, I never have been able to resist coffee...or doughnuts.” He laughed and seemed to relax a bit. He plucked a doughnut out of the box and took a bite.

  I pushed the covers away and hung my legs over the side of the bed, realizing I’d never put my jeans back on after last night. I saw them on the floor near the bed and leaned over to grab them. I stood and wiggled them back on. The smell of doughnuts and coffee awoke my appetite. Skipping dinner had left me ravenous and although my stomach coiled into knots, I couldn’t ignore the gnawing pains of hunger.

  I turned toward the table and found Grant staring at me, his hand holding a half-eaten doughnut, frozen mid-air. Immediately I blushed, embarrassed about getting dressed in front of him. I hadn’t realized he’d been paying attention to me.

  But what should I have done, gotten dressed under the covers? My stifled emotions threatened to spill out. If it wasn’t for him my
jeans wouldn’t be on the floor. My embarrassment transformed into frustration. If he didn’t want to watch me get back into my jeans, he shouldn’t have been so eager to get me out of them.

  Grant seemed to sense my shift in emotions and now he looked like the embarrassed one, with a hint of guilt, too. Good. I walked up to the table and grabbed a chocolate covered doughnut and my coffee. I sat in the chair opposite him but refused to make eye contact.

  I was a mess. I was angry, sad, disappointed, hurt, but most of all heartbroken. I swallowed my emotions with a swig of warm coffee. I glanced in his direction. He wore an unusual expression, maybe regret? He probably felt sorry for me, or maybe he was just seriously sorry he had gotten mixed up with me at all. He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off when Conor opened the bathroom door.

  * * * *

  Shortly after breakfast we packed up and left our dreary motel room. I couldn’t get away fast enough. Every time I looked at the bed I thought of Grant, and every time I thought of him I thought of our conversation. The suffocating room seemed smaller and smaller by the minute. There was no way to escape him.

  Once in the car, I climbed into the backseat and tried to forget about our morning discussion. As soon as we began moving I closed my eyes, leaned my head back and put my hands into the pockets of my hoodie. To my delight, I discovered my earbuds tucked away in there. Thankful I had several decent playlists on my phone, I immediately popped in my earbuds, leaned my head back again and tuned out everything else.

  Despite being almost used to the buzz of electricity that pulsed through me every time I was near Grant, drifting into relaxation seemed to intensify it. I tried to just concentrate on my music, but the buzz was still there, nagging at me.

  I shifted uncomfortably, hating the reminder of his presence, then hating myself for blaming him for my emotional roller coaster. It wasn’t his fault he didn’t feel the same way about me. Although, sometimes I believed maybe there was more. I wondered if I read too much into his actions. Ugh, of course he is nice to you. It’s his job to protect you. This of course also explained why I often found him staring at me.