by E. J. Mellow
“You were incredible though.” He leans back to find my gaze. “You were moving just as fast as me. Did you know that?”
I shake my head. “No. When I was in the other plane, it seemed like you slowed down and I could see where your movements were going before you took them. Like the energy in you was highlighting the path you had in your mind.”
“Incredible,” he says again.
“It was pretty cool,” I admit with a grin.
He chuckles, the first sign of his old self, before his attention flickers to my mouth and then back to my eyes. Instantly the size of the room shrinks to just the two of us. Him and me and the intimacy of our position. Okay, this is probably my cue to move away. Why am I not moving away?
“We’ll need to figure out all the advantages of using that sight,” he says after a moment, his voice rough, like he needs a drink of water, his gaze telling me I’m that drink of water.
“Won’t be satisfied till I have the upper hand?” I laugh nervously, searching for a way to lighten things up a little.
“Molly,” he says softly as his attention drops to my mouth again. “That you already have.”
My lips part on a shallow gasp, and my heart jackrabbits when Dev slowly inches toward them. Patter, patter, patter, it counts down the seconds till his lips collide with mine. Patter, patter, patter. Only one more patter till—
“There you are.” Rae’s voice booms through the room, and I practically hit the ceiling, jumping away from Dev’s arms.
Holy ghost scares!
“Jesus, Rae!” I clench my chest. “Startle people much?”
His grin widens as his look shifts between Dev and me. “Sorry?”
Dev mumbles something under his breath, which sounds kind of like you will be, but I’m not certain.
“I didn’t think you’d still be in here. You were supposed to be done an hour ago.” He flickers a glance toward Dev. “It’s time for you to head home.”
My posture straightens. “To New York?”
“Yup, it’s time to wake up.”
“What? Like now? Like right now?”
“Like right now,” he confirms.
“Oh.” I glance to Dev, who’s studying the ground, a frown in place. “Okay. Do I…do I need to bring anything?”
“Just you.” He walks back to the door. “I’ll be waiting out here, to, uh, give you two a moment.”
Once Rae is out of sight, I turn to Dev, suddenly finding it hard to look him in the eyes, especially when he’s staring at me so intensely. “Well, I guess this is it…thanks for, um, letting me stay at your place and training me today.”
He nods. “Of course.”
“And I’ll see you a little later?”
“Unfortunately, I won’t be able to meet you tonight. You have training with another Vigil.”
“Oh.” I frown. “Okay. Then I guess this is good-bye for a bit.”
“I guess so.”
I can see him shutting down again, outside thoughts clouding his usually light temperament, and I want to ask him what he’s thinking, what’s causing these mood shifts he’s been falling into as of late, if it’s all due to an old memory of a ghost that’s newly awoken? But I ask none of these things. Instead, I manage a small smile and head for the exit, hoping he’ll tell me when he’s ready and that I’ll be able to handle it when he is.
— 16 —
THERE ARE THOSE massive, ridiculous-looking sunglasses they give out after a trip to the eye doctor, the ones that haven’t been redesigned in about fifty years that protect the eyes from the sun after they’ve been dilated to the size of saucers. Well, I never thought I’d find myself wishing I had those facial fashion atrocities more than I do in this moment. When did the sun become so bright?! I feel like my face has morphed into a prune from how hard I’m squinting. And since when did New York City smell so bad? My God, how it smells. And the noise! Don’t even get me started on the noise. Isn’t it only ten in the morning? How are people already honking?
“Are you going to complain the whole way to your apartment?” Rae asks as we stop at an intersection.
“Oh, I didn’t realize I was saying that out loud.”
“Yes, ever since we stepped out of the shop.”
I grimace. “Sorry, just getting used to it all again, I guess.”
“You’ve only been gone two days.” He raises a brow. “This can’t possibly be that shocking to come back to?”
I shrug. “For some reason it is. Even though Terra’s a city, it’s different from here.”
“Yes, it certainly—”
“Oo! Coffee!” I skip across the street, zeroing in on one of my favorite cafés. “Now this is something Terra could use. How do you guys go without coffee?” I ask as I press my face up to the glass, ignoring the patrons sitting by the window who give me the stink eye.
“We don’t need the pick-me-up, remember?” Rae says from behind me.
“Yes, but what about the taste? We all need that.”
Rae laughs. “Come on. Let’s get you a cup before you freak those people out even more.”
Stepping into the café, I pause as I’m hit with the glorious scent of roasted coffee beans. Okay, get reacclimated with New York—done.
After practically chugging my cup of joe—sorry, tongue, for the burn, but it was necessary—Rae and I part ways, allowing me to take a leisurely stroll back to my apartment. The air is warmer than I remembered, and I smile as I compare the differences between my two worlds and the strange ways in which they are very similar but at the same time completely different. One of the contrasts being the garbage. New York could definitely do with less litter. Terra seems a lot more self-efficient, a contained well-oiled machine, taking care of its people the way they take care of it.
Pausing on the sidewalk, I bend down to retie my shoelace, noticing it’s come undone. While partly kneeling, a strange feeling of being watched creeps up my spine, and I peer over my shoulder. Besides an old lady walking her dog and a couple talking on their stoop, the street is empty. I frown and stand, taking another glance around, but nothing seems out of place. I must still be a bit discombobulated from being back from Terra. That, or I’m starting to show signs of the paranoid schizophrenia Elena mentioned. Awesome. Turning around, I walk a little faster to my building, never completely shaking the feeling that I was followed the whole way there. Paranoia it is.
—∞—
“Hey, you,” Jared says, stepping through my door a little later that night and sweeping me into his arms. He’s in his dark jeans and a light-gray sweater that smells deliciously like him—fresh laundry and cologne.
“Hey,” I mumble with a smile against his lips.
His hazel eyes regard me with warmth. “I’ve missed you. How was home?”
“Um, it was great. Just what I needed.” Liar, liar, pants on fire.
“Good.” He leans down to kiss me again before placing the food he brought on my kitchen counter.
“How was your weekend?” I ask.
“Uneventful. Like I texted you, I had to work the whole time.”
“Oh yeah.” I try remembering the conversation Rae had with Jared. I still can’t help but blush when recalling certain parts of the back and forth. Friggin’ Rae.
“Have you seen Becca yet?” Jared asks, taking off his shoes and sliding onto my bed.
“No, not yet. I actually just got off the phone with her before you came over. I’ll be seeing her tomorrow at work. She’s already planned a long out-of-the-office lunch to celebrate my return. Because, you know, I’ve been working way too hard as it is.”
He laughs and pulls me down next to him. “Good. I say take all the time you need before going back to work, but I know how you like to stay busy.”
He doesn’t even know the half of how busy I actually am.
“Home was definitely a good decision.” He tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear.
“What do you mean?”
“You just sound mo
re relaxed, not as shaken up.”
“Yeah, I guess I am in a better place than I was last week,” I say, thinking what a difference learning the truth about my dreams and then having two days to get acclimated to that truth will do for a gal.
“Well, then I guess it was worth putting me through the torture of not seeing you.”
I snort. “Jared, I don’t think it was really that bad for you.”
He trails his fingers down my side. “Then you think wrong.”
My stomach does a flip-flop when his hand inches under my shirt to glide up my back. His gaze darkens when he sees my lips part, and he leans in to claim them. The kiss starts off slow, each of us reexploring the other, and my fingers tighten in his thick blond hair when he presses himself into me.
“Don’t tell me you didn’t at least miss this part of me.” His voice is deep and lust filled as he moves his weight against me. I groan in response, and he smiles, satisfied. Licking and kissing his way down my body, he slowly removes my jeans and then my shirt.
As he kneels fully clothed above me, he frowns.
“What?” I ask, suddenly self-conscious.
“Have you lost weight?”
I glance down, surprised to find I do look a little skinnier, my stomach a bit more toned, my legs a little muscular. Hunh? Is it possible that all that training in Terra affected my body here?
“I didn’t realize I had,” I say awkwardly, not really knowing how else to explain it.
“I don’t like it.”
I blink at him stunned. “What?”
“You don’t need to lose weight. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Jared.” I laugh and his frown deepens. “You are the sweetest man in the world for saying that. I honestly didn’t realize I lost any. I started running while I was home. I guess my body reacted strangely fast to it.”
He eyes me skeptically.
“Come here.” I pull on the waistband of his jeans. “You’re way too dressed compared to me. I need to remedy that.” As I help him out of his shirt, a small grin inches across his lips again. “There, much better,” I say, taking in his gloriously defined chest and tan skin. Skin that reflects living life under the sun, something that another man’s pallor doesn’t, another man that I’m surprised to be thinking about at all in this moment.
I shake away those thoughts as Jared rids himself of his jeans and climbs back over me. Pressing sweet kisses to my neck, his hand slides over every dip of my body, every curve of my frame, and I sigh with pleasure. Kneading my fingers into his muscular back, I remind myself this is the man I should be with, the man who grounds me. This is Jared. My boyfriend. And as I drink in his love-filled eyes as he slips on a condom and then into me, I pray it’s enough.
— 17 —
A PIECE OF bread bounces off my forehead, and I glance up startled.
“Are you going to talk to me at all during this lunch or keep ignoring me to read that thing?” Becca’s green eyes narrow at the newspaper in my hands. “I mean, I know I can be tiring, but I seriously can’t be worse than the daily news.”
“Sorry.” I fold the paper, placing it back on the chair where I found it. “I just hadn’t heard about those shootings.”
Becca leans back with a frown, an errant red curl springing free from her tightly styled bun. “For real? It was all over the news. I’m surprised your dad didn’t mention it when you were home. Doesn’t he religiously watch that stuff?”
“Yeah, but he never said anything.” I glance back to the headline that still glares up at me. “Eight Civilians Shot Dead in Park.” My stomach turns over, and I know I won’t be able to finish the other half of my sandwich.
“Yeah, it was horrible. People can be fucking monsters,” Becca says, scrunching her napkin. “Seriously, what’s wrong with the world?”
Under the table my hand tightens on my thigh.
What’s wrong with the world?
I shake my head, not only in disgust but also because the answer I want to give her…I can’t. A strange wave of guilt fills my chest. Is this because of me? Could I have prevented this? Am I not doing enough in Terra? And maybe more importantly, can I stop anything like this from happening in the future?
A waiter drops a rag on a nearby table to wipe it clean, the movement breaking my quickly spiraling thoughts. The café we’re eating at is pleasantly quiet for a New York City lunch hour, and the front doors are thrown open, letting in a warm breeze. I look up to see a little boy at a booth across the room trying to feed his baby sister, his mom smiling when most of the food ends up on the little girl’s bib.
So much love living next to so much hate.
“Not to belittle what happened, but can we change the subject?” Becca asks. “I’d like to not go back to work in a worse mood than when we left.”
“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” I pick up my iced tea, washing away the acidic taste that was beginning to coat my tongue. “How was your weekend with Rae?”
Becca’s cheeks suddenly redden, and I blink, thinking I’m seeing things. “Becca…are you…are you blushing?”
She presses her lips together, her eyes dancing away from me.
“Oh my God, you are! What in the world could cause Ms. Unshockable to get tongue tied?”
She throws a hand over her face. “This is so embarrassing.”
“What? You’re embarrassed too? Are pigs flying right now?” I quickly peer out the windows. “This has to be a new record. Wait! Let me get my phone so I can take a picture.”
“Molly!” She snatches my cell away when I pull it from my bag. “You’re not getting proof of this.”
I harrumph and drop my shoulders. “Not fair. This never happens to you. I need a souvenir from the moment.”
“It’s called your memory.”
“Fine, but that means I’m just going to have to bring it up a lot so as to never forget.” I smile cheekily.
She rolls her eyes.
“So what happened?” I push. “What’s so embarrassing? Is it Rae? Did he do something? Oh man, did he finally fart in front of you?”
Becca bursts out laughing, and a couple of patrons glance our way. “I wish that’s what happened,” she says after containing herself. “No, I’m afraid it’s rather worse.”
“Worse?” My eyes widen. “Oh man, now I’m scared to ask.”
“Yeah, well, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She wets her lips. “So Rae…he started to…”
“My God, woman, spit it out.”
“He started to sext me,” she says quickly, and I stare at her, deadpan, my fears swallowing a smile from forming because if I know Rae as well as I’m starting to, this isn’t the end of the story. “And normally I’m all for a little verbal foreplay,” she continues. “It is me after all. But…” Becca looks up, apprehension in her eyes.
“He’s not very good at it?” I ask with a fearful grimace.
“Oh, Molly, he’s horrible!” She deflates, placing both hands on the table. “I don’t know where he’s getting any of his innuendos from. They make zero sense! I spend half the conversation trying to figure out what he’s saying while becoming the complete opposite of turned on. I mean, what in the world does ‘I’m going to put grill marks on you’ mean?”
That’s when I lose it. I lean forward and laugh so hard I start to cry.
“It’s really not funny,” Becca says with a whine.
“It’s actually the definition of funny.” I pat my eyes with my napkin. “And I think he was trying to say that he’ll burn you with his touch, or something like that.” I start chuckling again. “Oh, poor Rae.”
“Ugh, still no better! How do I tell him to stop?”
“I don’t know, maybe by telling him to stop?” I raise a brow.
Becca purses her lips. “It’s not that easy. He seems so into it, like he’s proud of himself or something. He even asked me when we met up what I thought of our ‘conversation.’” She air quotes.
I hold back another
laugh. “Is it just me, or is his failure at sexting kind of adorable?”
Becca sighs. “No, it’s not just you. It is adorable. Extremely cute, in fact.” She rubs her eyes. “I guess that’s the positive way to spin all this.”
I start giggling again, that is until I abruptly stop, because with a blood-freezing realization I remember that Rae had my phone this weekend, and he mentioned something about sexting with Jared. Oh no. Please, no! I glance to my cellphone that rests next to Becca, it now looking more like a viper waiting to fill me with poison. I can’t. I can’t check it. If his responses were as bad as Becca’s example and the—let’s not even go there—LALAT acronym, Jared would have mentioned something, right?
Right?!
“Molly, are you okay?” Becca asks, and I blink up to her. “You look pale. Was it the tuna fish?”
“Can you do me a favor?” I sit up straight.
“Sure, what is it?”
“Can you go to my text conversation with Jared.” I nudge my phone closer to her. “Right now, while I’m sitting here.”
“Uh, okay.” She glances to me once it’s in her hands. “Now what?”
“Delete the thread.”
“What? Why?”
“Just do it! Before I change my mind.”
She frowns. “You are so weird.” Tapping her fingers a few times on the screen, she places it back down. “There, all deleted. Feel better?”
“Not really.”
“Did you text him something you don’t want to remember?”
I swallow. “I really hope not.”
She snorts and picks up her water. “You make no sense sometimes.”
I try not to think about how little sense I might have made to Jared over the weekend. Elena’s words of knowledge being power come back to me, but as my phone now sits clean of any possible mental contamination, I know in this moment that ignorance is a way more blissful option.