Connected (Twists of Fate #1)

by Jolyn Palliata

  You know what you can stroke…, he mused, the implication clear.

  “Don’t even say it.” And it appeared she had to work on muting selective thoughts. Again.

  Back to square one.

  Oh, I don’t know about that. I’d say we’ve gotten a lot further than square one.

  “Hardy, har, har. Smartass.” She threw a pil ow over her head—like that was real y going to help.

  Um, duh!

  “I’m gonna have to learn how to block you al over again, aren’t I?” Why would you want to?

  Being able to read his tone, as wel as his emotions, was becoming very useful. “Don’t even try to pretend you’re hurt by that, Rhys. Your fake guilt trips aren’t going to work.” Dammit, woman. I’m gonna have to find all new fucking ways to manipulate you. This is your fault, ya know. If you hadn’t gotten yourself all horny—

  He pinched her ass and she yelped, returning the assault with a light elbow to his gut. Wel , it was supposed to be light, but it earned her a grunt in her ear fol owed by a quiet snicker.

  Al owing herself an indulgent smile, she pul ed the pil ow off her head and then reluctantly opened her eyes to the morning brightness. The sensation of Rhys next to her immediately faded.

  Yup, same as the night before.

  Can you feel this?

  “No.”

  Close your eyes.

  She did, and promptly jumped and giggled, pressing her ear to her shoulder. “Stop blowing in my ear.” That answers that. No matter how hard I concentrate, you’ll only feel me with your eyes closed.

  “You sound disappointed.”

  I am, little bit. I could’ve had a helluva lot of fun with that.

  “Oh, man,” she moaned as she straightened out into a good, muscle-pul ing stretch. “I can only imagine.” Hey. Hold up a sec. Do you hear that?

  What now? “Here what?”

  Are your eyes open or closed?

  “Open.” She glanced around the room reflexively, and listened for Rhys. Other than the distant buzz of his thoughts, the only thing she could hear were the birds outside. “Rhys, what is it?”

  I can hear birds.

  Her gaze shot to the window. She hadn’t been concentrating on the sound at al . “You can hear them?” His voice lifted in wonder. Yeah. Sure as shit, I can. And your eyes are fucking open?

  “Uh…yeah.” Her stomach plummeted like a rock. By focusing on specific senses she’d been able to control what she transmitted. But she didn’t even have that restraint anymore? “What happened between us… It must have strengthened our connection.” Looks like. But I can tell you’re not too thrilled about that. What the fuck’s up with that? His tone was tight, almost accusatory.

  “Look. Don’t get al pissy with me. I’m just trying to figure out how either one of us is going to get any privacy now. That was our problem before, remember?” She sighed as she sat up. “I’m already having trouble blocking my thoughts from you, and now this?” Okay. Just take a step back.

  Have you really even tried to block me? Go ahead.

  Concentrate. Give it your damnedest.

  Without much faith it was going to work, Addison closed her eyes. She could feel Rhys next to her, which made her bristle in frustration, but she forced herself to relax as she realized she could use the contact to judge her progress.

  She felt out their now-familiar link and began to close it the way she used to. It was working. She could tel by the lack of intensity in Rhys’

  touch, as if his physical presence was easing back with what she was doing.

  It’s working.

  “Yeah, but I can’t quite…” The link was stil there no matter how tightly she held it. Maybe if she… With a mental twist, she cinched it closed. “There. I just had to shift my focus a little bit tighter.”

  Silence met her explanation. She shook her head and released the hold.

  Duh.

  “Rhys?”

  Yeah.

  “Did you feel how I did that?”

  A pause, then, I gotcha. I just tried it and you didn’t hear me, so yeah…we can still block each other.

  Her relief was palpable. “Thank God.”

  She flopped back on her pil ow, and thought about the hearing thing. It was pretty cool he could hear whatever she did if she was open to it. His world must get pretty lonely with only her thoughts to hear. Background noise would be nice for him…when appropriate, that is.

  My thoughts exactly.

  She laughed. Couldn’t help it. “Damn, Rhys. I’m getting far too comfortable with you in my head. It used to be second-nature to block al my thoughts from you. I gotta seriously work on that.”

  Like hell you do. I like hearing everything. Keep going. It’s okay. I won’t use it against you— He cleared his throat with the word “much” not-so-cleverly hidden in the sound.

  She rol ed her eyes and then closed them, braving his physical presence. “Aren’t you just the chivalrous gentleman?”

  Oh, I’m all about treating a woman right.

  She tensed as she felt a finger tracing up and down the length of her arm, and then he asked—a little too sweetly—

  the question she had already heard in his thoughts.

  Are you gonna check your email this morning? Ya know, to see if Xavier hit us back.

  Her entire body locked down. “Is that why you did that last night? To butter me up?” Please say no. Please say no.

  She also prayed he didn’t pick up on her little mantra, hoping she was blocking it correctly.

  Wait. Why the hel would she want him to say ‘no’?

  Hell, no. I did that to meet a fucking challenge no man alive could’ve walked away from.

  But you felt so good… I wasn’t expecting to be able to feel that.

  Addison felt the heat rush into her cheeks and she mumbled, “Me either.” The phone rang, as if a guardian angel had swooped down, saving her from the rest of a sure-to-be-disastrous conversation. Rol ing over, she grabbed the cordless off the bedside table.

  An absent glace showed unavailable on the cal er ID.

  "Hel o?"

  A deep, rough voice responded. Actual y, it was closer to a growl. "Addison Calomino?"

  Xavier? Rhys nearly choked on the name, having heard what she did.

  Her spine shot ramrod-straight as she bolted into a sitting position, nearly fumbling the phone.

  Her voice was breathless. "Xavier?" And then she silently cursed.

  She hadn’t meant to say his name out loud.

  Chapter Twelve

  The silence on the other end of the line was absolute, to the point where Addison half-thought Xavier had hung up on her. Not that she’d blame him if he had.

  “Hel o?” she said meekly, and then winced, tel ing herself to suck it up.

  “I know for a fact this number is unlisted, so tel me...how did you know who this was?” And how the hel was she supposed to answer that?!

  Tell him! Rhys demanded, his anxiety shooting straight into her veins.

  I can’t! He’ll think I’m nuts! she retorted, scrambling to find any suitable words to explain…wel , anything. Everything.

  Dammit. It couldn’t be explained!

  Her panic kicked up a notch, jamming her throat closed.

  Do it! Rhys roared. Before he hangs up!

  Cringing at his volume, she resisted his words. No, she couldn’t just—

  Rhys started to yel , to really hol er in her mind. His string of obscenities was so loud she only managed to catch a word here and there, and through it al , she felt his desperation and fear.

  “He recognized your voice,” she blurted out, wanting to stop the onslaught in her head.

  Her ears pulsed in the sudden silence, but then she heard Xavier’s response, his voice dark and control ed.

  “Who, exactly, recognized my voice?”

  Addison waited for Rhys’ coached-response, and was stunned to get nothing. He was there; she fel him. But…

  nothing. />
  Way to ditch me, asshat!

  “Rhys. It was Rhys that recognized your voice. He… He’s here with me…basical y. Yeah.” She shook her head, feeling like the total idiot she was.

  “How do you know about Scripted Lives? Or about Rhys’

  nickname?” Did he not just hear what she said?

  “I told you, Xavier. Rhys is here with me. As in…I can talk to him…um…his spirit…in my head. He tel s me stuff. He…

  ah…told me what to put in the email.” And stil nothing from the Afterlife Leech in her head.

  “Ms. Calomino, let me be clear. I just lost my brother. Don’t you even think about playing games with me here.” Her brow creased as she reached out to Rhys. Is he threatening me?

  Final y, he answered, sounding more relaxed than what she knew he felt. Naw, he’s all bark.

  She wasn’t so sure. I’ve seen pictures of the man. You can’t tell me there’s no bite there.

  “Ms. Calomino,” Xavier snapped into the phone.

  She prickled at his tone even as she felt empathy for the pain he must be feeling. “It’s Miss, and I have no intentions of playing head games. I wouldn’t do that to someone.” He was quiet a beat. “Perfect. Then you won’t mind answering a few questions.” Her sympathy dimmed in the face of his hard, cocky tone. You with me, Rhys?

  I got your back, sweetheart.

  How reassuring. “Al right. What’s your question?”

  “Where did we grow up?” he asked.

  She rol ed her eyes, and she swore she felt Rhys rol his.

  Wel …if he’d had eyes. “You want to ask me something I wouldn’t be able to find on the internet? Ya know, something personal that only Rhys would know.”

  “Al right, I’l cut the shit. How old was Rhys when he learned to ride a bike?” Ten, Rhys replied in a tight voice.

  “You were ten?” she asked aloud with a giggle. “Late bloomer, huh?” Shut it.

  Xavier cleared his throat, his voice cranking up a level.

  “What color was my first car?” Addison listened to Rhys’

  reply, her lip curling in disgust. “Ugh. That’s repulsive. Not lime-green, or mint green, but baby-shit green? What the hel ’s wrong with you?” He was so proud of that piece-of-shit Charger. I had to knock it.

  “What color was our mother’s minivan?” She read the discomfort in Xavier’s voice.

  Addison listened to Rhys again, and then responded, “She never had a minivan. Who’s playing games now, Xavier?” He sighed, the control ed anger slipping into exhaustion.

  Again she felt the burden of guilt rising to the surface.

  My God, what the man must’ve been going through…

  I bet he’s rubbing his hand on his leg. Rhys flashed an image to accompany the comment.

  She breathed in resignation as she fol owed Rhys’ lead.

  “You’re rubbing your palm on your thigh, aren’t you? Your left one.”

  “How did you know that?” he asked, clearly stunned.

  “Rhys says you do that when you’re frustrated, or stressed.

  I’d say this hits home on both counts.”

  “Look, if you’re for real,” Xavier said, as if al owing for the possibility, “you’l come do this face-to-face.” She swal owed hard, the remorse she felt shifting to the background once again. “Come again.”

  “I’l pay for the ticket.” He paused. “I’m not taking no for an answer. If you’re for real, then meeting is unavoidable.” Might as well do it. The bastard won’t let up until you do.

  Figures. These boys were like two stubborn peas in a pod.

  Crap. “Fine.”

  “I’l email you the details.” And then he hung up.

  Addison yanked the phone from her ear and stared at it a minute before hanging up. “Jerk.” She flopped back on the bed and rubbed at her eyes. “Why does he have to see me in person for this?”

  He wants to look you in the eye, Rhys murmured absently, his thoughts spiraling in a distant direction.

  ”And why’s that?”

  Xavier’s got a foolproof bullshit detector, but he has to stare your ass down to do its magic.

  “Come on,” she groaned. “Seriously?”

  Hey. The guy’s never wrong. He can spot a lie from fucking Albuquerque. He claims everyone’s got a tell.

  “Great. So what if he reads my nerves as a tell and thinks I’m lying?” Doesn’t work that way. Look, don’t worry about it.

  You’re not lying so just put it out of your head, okay? In the meantime, let me tell you about this brother of mine.

  *****

  Addison sat in the stiff, vinyl chair at the gate, one hand discretely pressed to her bel y as she tried not to look as sick as she felt. The nausea roiled inside her like a gathering storm, building and stacking until she was sure she was going to lose it.

  She whimpered a groan behind her clenched fist. Rhys, you’ve got to knock it off, buddy.

  You’re making me sick.

  You try dying in a fucking plane crash and see how comfortable you are getting back on one.

  Though his logic was flawed, she knew what he meant. Hel , she felt it. There was nothing she could do for him though.

  Her best recourse was to block as much of her surroundings from him as possible. As far as she knew, he wasn’t even aware of just how close they were to getting on that plane. But he knew it was inevitable.

  Another wave of anxiety slammed through her and al she wanted to do in return was find a nice, quiet corner and curl up in the fetal position.

  Oh God, how was she going to get to Chicago like this?

  Rhys must have known he let the most recent surge of emotion slip free, and was quick to mumble an apology before concentrating harder to hold the link closed.

  Addison could feel his focus as he tried to protect her from his mental state, but the tension behind their barrier made it clear how much he suffered.

  As her flight was cal ed for boarding, she did the only thing she could: blocked her thoughts and what she could hear as she lurched her way onto the plane. Settling into her seat, she closed her eyes and wished she could reach out to him—to soothe his nerves in some way, to assure him everything would be fine—but she had no clue as how to go about it.

  You’re blocking me again, Rhys said in a muted tone. You do that more often now.

  It dawned on her that he wasn’t just talking about right then and there. He was talking about since they…wel …sort of made love.

  There’s so much more to block now, she retorted, a bit more defensively than she had intended.

  Her response could’ve meant she now had to filter out what she was hearing on top of the usual emotions and thoughts, but she knew he’d catch the underlying meaning. She had been careful to block al thoughts she’d had about their night together. And there had been a lot to block. It was too risky to expose what she was feeling. It made her too vulnerable.

  Besides, she huffed, feeling more than a little agitated, you’ve been blocking me too.

  Rhys’ nerves shifted into apprehension. You’re thinking about our night together, aren’t you? The question was probing, gentle, not snide or accusatory.

  Resigned, she figured the truth couldn’t hurt. Much. Yeah.

  I want you to… Will you let me hear you, Addison? I want to know what you’re…feeling.

  The admission was awkward at best, showing how much he was reaching out to her. But it did nothing to assuage her fears. I don’t even understand what I’m feeling yet.

  Are you afraid to show me?

  Rhys—

  Close your eyes, sweetheart.

  Why? Her eyes narrowed and she stared out the window next to her while the plane took off.

  Just do it, he barked, then softened his tone. Please. For me. Trust me.

  With a great deal of reluctance, she closed her eyes. The second she did, she felt him take her hand, and then nudged his thoughts and emotions towards her.

  He felt
a noble appreciation for the other night, wonder and desire, and a bunch of others too jumbled to pinpoint. But one sensation stood apart from the others: trepidation about her reaction as to what had happened…and fear of her rejection.

  I feel the same way, Rhys. And then she opened herself to him, for once ful y trusting him with her feelings, but hoping he didn’t have the insight to decipher the depths of her emotions.

  She was fal ing for him. Hard.

  You don’t feel regret, he murmured. It wasn’t real y a question, but more of a self-reassuring confirmation.

  No, I don’t.

  Me either.

  Opening her eyes, Addison nestled into her seat and looked out the window again. She was pleased when she realized Rhys was distracted from the flight, and she then knew how to keep him that way.

  Training her focus on the clouds blanketed out around them, she pictured images of her and Rhys. Together.

  When she heard the catch of his breath, she knew for certain he saw it with perfect clarity.

  No way was she physically going there with him when she was sitting on an airplane, surrounded by complete strangers, so she made sure to keep her eyes open. Hel , that would’ve given The Mile High Club a whole new angle, wouldn’t it? But she had no qualms whatsoever about putting Rhys through a salacious wringer.

  She flipped through her memories of the other night, one-by-one, and then began making some stuff up, throwing it in there for good measure to Rhys’ obvious and vocal delight.

  She let her imagination be her inspiration; standing, kneeling, straddling, laying down. She pictured it al , and then some.

  When she blinked, she could feel his hands…wel , everywhere. So she made sure to keep her lids as low as possible to keep her eyes moist without having to close them too often. Her restraint proved to add a whole other layer of provocation as Rhys writhed inside her.

  Baby, he growled, let me atcha.

  Addison laughed inside, taunting him with an image of his darkly tattooed arms wrapping around her from behind.

  You just wait until you go to sleep tonight. He moaned as she shifted her thoughts and pictured them laying down, her bel y arching into his ribbed abs as they came together. I’m going to make you pay soooo good for this.

  An involuntary quiver landed in her stomach as he shoved al his senses at her—the sound of his heavy breath, the feel of his hard body under his palm, the tingle of his arousal, the urgency of his needs. And yet, she keep her eyes open, even as she was being ful y punished by her own recklessness.