by Sarah Ready
She turns to me. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
I take a moment to study her. I’ve been avoiding it. It’s two a.m. on day seven and we’ve gone through all the Matt Smith candidates. It’s over. We failed. Chloe didn’t find her soul mate. Back in Vegas, I promised her that we’d get to him and we didn’t. I failed.
The part I don’t want to admit, though, is that I’m glad. There’s a bright hope growing inside of me. If she doesn’t find him, then maybe she’ll find that I can be who she needs. I’m not perfect, I may not be her soul mate, but I love her, and I could spend the rest of my life showing her how much.
She settles down on the bed, props up the pillows and leans back against the headboard.
“Can I join you?” I ask.
She pats the space next to her. I sink onto the bed, it’s old and soft and dips toward the middle. I lean back and relax into the softness. It feels like a miracle sitting here next to her, when hours ago, I thought she’d be gone for good. We’re cocooned in the quiet of the room and the only sound is the soft hum of the air conditioning.
Chloe’s eyes focus on someplace distant, either in the past or her imagined future. But, wherever she’s at, it’s not here with me.
“Penny for your thoughts?” I ask. “But only a penny, because we’re broke.”
She gives a short laugh and turns to me. When she shakes her head I have the sudden urge to reach out and stroke the curls falling over her shoulders.
“I was just thinking that maybe we missed one. Maybe there’s another Matt,” she says.
All that glowing hope inside me gutters out. I look away for a moment and pull myself back into reality. The reality where Chloe desperately wants to find and marry a man she hasn’t seen in twenty years.
“Yeah,” I say. My voice cracks. I try again. “Yeah. Let me call Reed. Maybe he’s found something since we left Romeo.” He may have discovered a lead or found a Matt that we missed in our initial search.
Chloe’s eyes light with hope. Why wouldn’t they? We still have twenty odd hours to find her soul mate. I turn my back and close my eyes. Then I pick up the beige receiver of the hotel phone and make a collect call. It’s five in the morning in New York and I’m sure Reed’s already up. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry when Reed picks up and then confirms that there are no more Matt Smiths on the radar. I thank him and hang up.
When I look over at Chloe, I can tell that she got the gist of the conversation.
“So, it’s over,” she says. Her shoulders slump and her chin falls to her chest. “I thought…” She stops and turns to me. “My aunt said I had to find him before the week was up. She said I would. I thought…”
“We tried,” I say. But it sounds lame in the light of the sadness in her eyes. I think about what she shared in Vegas. I know from experience, it sucks to love someone and have them hurt you so much.
“Do you remember the first time we made love?” I ask.
Chloe’s head jerks up and her cheeks turn red. “Aunt Erma said first kiss, not first sex.”
I keep going even though a heavy weight presses on my chest. This is important. I scoot closer to her until we’re touching. “I let a misunderstanding keep me away from you for ten years. Maybe I needed to grow up until I could be the man you’d need.”
“Nick…” she says. She starts to move away.
“Listen, this is important.”
She closes her eyes and her lower lip trembles. “Okay.”
Hesitantly I take her hand and start to stroke the back of it. “I’ve been thinking.”
“Yeah?” A small smile lights on her lips.
“Yeah, Sparky. About us.”
She licks her lips and looks at me with trepidation. “We’re not…”
“Hang on. This is important.” I take both her hands in mine. “You always believed that soul mates are decided by fate, right?”
She nods.
“And I thought soul mates didn’t exist.”
“Yeah, you win. I didn’t find mine. I didn’t prove you wrong.”
“No. That’s just it. You did.”
She shakes her head. “How?”
“Because I realize I always believed in soul mates. Just not the kind you do. What if two people can become soul mates?”
“What?”
I lean forward and squeeze her hands. I’ve been mulling this over and I think I’m right. “What if two people become soul mates by growing and fitting together? What if fate doesn’t decide soul mates, what if we create our own?”
I silently beg her to give this idea a chance. It takes what feels like a thousand years for her to respond. I’ve just jumped off the edge of a high cliff and she can either catch me or let me fall. She looks down at our joined hands. They fit perfectly together.
Then, “Like you and me?” she asks.
Thank the lord.
“Like you and me,” I say.
“I’m scared,” she whispers.
Me too.
If we’d really talked all those years ago, then she never would’ve dated Ron, and she never would’ve been hurt. I would already be her husband and we might already have children. I loved her all those years ago and if I’d stayed with her, I would’ve married her. No doubt about it. There wouldn’t be any question of soul mates. She’d be mine and I’d be hers. Now, I see a future where we might never be, and that terrifies me.
“Me too,” I say.
She looks up sharply and takes in my expression. “You are?”
I nod. “Remember how you said it takes bravery to fall in love after you realize there’s a bottom?”
“Yes?”
“We could fall together, and if we crash, I’ll let you land on top of my body.”
She laughs and wipes at her eyes. “That’s not how it’s supposed to be. Soul mates are in unison, in perfect sync. They have lots in common and they get each other. It’s like two souls that were torn apart and when they find each other again they’re whole.”
“But what if we go through life and become whole together? You don’t start out like that, you become that. I could become yours. You could be mine.”
This is it, my impassioned plea. That maybe, at the eleventh hour, Chloe will find her soul mate—in me.
“And the first kiss?” she asks. Earlier, she looked scared, now there’s something else there. An echoing of hope, maybe?
I nod. “Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Yes.” I lean forward and press my lips to hers. Her mouth is like a fresh spring in the desert, sweet, cool and enough to bring a man back to life.
“That’s not—” she says against my mouth.
I press my lips to hers and silence her protest.
“Watch,” I say.
I lean down and gently move her sleeves down her shoulders. I press my lips to her collarbone. I trace them over her warmth and linger over her scent. “This,” I say, “is the first kiss to your collarbone.” I pull her top lower and press my mouth over her shoulder. “This is the first kiss to your shoulder.” She gasps at the feel of my mouth. I take her dress and push it down. I send my mouth over her skin. “The first kiss to your ribs. The first kiss to the underside of your breast.”
I look up at her when I reach her bra. Her eyes have gone heavy and have taken on her horny “thinking of my soul mate” look, but this time, I know it’s for me.
“Yes?” I ask.
“Yes,” she says.
I unstrap her bra and my fingers linger on the curve of her spine. I suck on her nipple and run my tongue over it. Then, I move to the other and suckle it as her fingers run through my hair and urge me on. I splay my hands across her stomach and trail my mouth over her skin.
“First kiss,” I say.
I watch her face as I slowly push down her skirt. Her eyes are on the space where my fingers meet her hip bones.
“Yes?” I ask.
“Yes,” she says.
I pull her dress off and let the smooth fa
bric trace over her. She reclines back on the bed, her hair spread around her, only in her panties. I suck on the skin above her hipbone. “First kiss.” Her face is flushed and her skin is glowing. When I look up at her I see that her eyes are full of heat. Like a man possessed, I bend back to her and kiss my way over her skin. I recite each place on her body from the tip of her pinky to the dip where her neck meets the curve of her jaw.
“Your eyebrows,” I say as I place a kiss. “Your eyelashes. These fairy kisses on your inner thigh that look like a constellation. First kiss.” I pull her thighs apart and knead them. I trail my lips up and make sure to cover every inch of skin. “First kiss.”
“These aren’t all first kisses,” she says. Her voice is teasing and full of the devil, and that’s when I know, she’s saying…yes.
I take her panties and we both watch as I pull the rough lace over her thighs and down her calves and then drop them to the bed. I lower myself back to her and she runs her fingers through my hair.
“But this is?” I ask.
“This is,” she says.
I smile and press my mouth over her clit. I take it in my mouth and run my tongue over her, savoring her taste and her cries. I move over her and explore her, inside and out. When I move back up to her clit, she lifts her hips and cries out. I suck on her and pull harder, until she’s bucking under me and crying out. When she falls back to the bed I look up. “First kiss.”
When she looks at me, her eyes are hungry and no longer sad. Just happy. From my kiss.
“Definitely,” she says. “That was definitely, absolutely my first kiss.”
My heart thunders in my chest. She reads the look on my face and holds her arms open to me.
“Can I have another?” she asks.
“Yeah?” I ask. Suddenly, stunned at the turn events. Does she mean it?
“What are you waiting for?” she asks.
I growl and tear off my clothes. In seconds, we’re both naked. I climb on top of her and use my knees to part her thighs. I brace myself above her and rub my length along her. The feel of her warmth is heaven and I want nothing more than to plunge inside her. Make her mine. I bring my mouth to hers and taste her sweetness. I run along her entrance while she teases me with her hips, arching and inviting me in then pulling away. I run my tongue into her mouth and she sucks on my lips. I would kiss her forever. I never want this to stop. She arches up again and the tip of me barely enters her tight warmth. My body ignites with feeling, and I want so bad to push in all the way. I grit my teeth and she cries out into my mouth. With all of my willpower I pull back and instead run along her wet entrance.
“This is okay?” I ask. “You want this?”
I look down at her and I swear to God, I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my whole life.
“Yes,” she says. “Yes.”
We stare into each other’s eyes. I fall into her gaze and what I see there makes me feel whole. The whole world disappears. It’s only us. Slowly, I move over her entrance and push into her. Inch by excruciating inch, I’m buried inside her. Her heat wraps around me and holds me tight. A drop of sweat drips down my brow. I’m drowning in her. I keep pushing in, as deep and as far as I can go, until I’m so deep inside her I’ve lost track of where I end and she begins.
She gasps and pulls me closer. Her arms wrap over my shoulders and her legs around my thighs. I pull in a sharp breath and give in to the overwhelming urge to move. I pull back, and feel like I’ve lost the universe, so I plunge back in her and feel like I’ve come home. As I pull out, I feel lost. So, again and again, I pull out and push in. I lose the universe only to find it again.
Her eyes are changing color, becoming a darker shade. Her pupils have almost swallowed the color entirely. I press my forehead to hers and plunge in again.
“Nick,” she says, and I catch her cry with my kiss.
“Cum,” I say.
I want to feel her.
“Cum.”
“You,” she says.
I smile. Even in this, she has to fight me. I reach down and run my fingers over her clit as I move inside her. I stroke her and pet her.
“Come for me,” I say. “Let me feel you.”
When she looks up at me, I try to convey that she can trust me. That I won’t hurt her. That I’ll always do what’s best and what’s right.
“Yes,” she cries.
Then, I feel her clench around me. She clasps my length inside her and the strength of her orgasm pulls me deeper in. My whole being fills with her, and I have to move. I have to, I have to fill her too. I thrust into her as she convulses around me. White sparks light in my eyes as pressure fills the base of my length. It grows and grows until I can’t feel anything but her and the need to be inside her. Always.
She convulses around me and her grip is so tight and demanding that I can’t do anything but obey. I shout out and push in harder and deeper. I try with all my soul and all my might to bring us both to heaven. To bring our two souls together. I cum in her, long and hard, and when I do, I know, I know with absolute certainty that she is mine.
When the last of her orgasm fades, I roll to my back and pull her onto me. Then, I kiss her forehead, her cheeks, her eyelashes and the tip of her nose. She snuggles into me and buries her face into my shoulder. This, unequivocally, is the best day of my life. Nothing can ruin it.
“Thank you,” I say.
“For what?” she says sleepily.
I squeeze her to me, wondering if it’s too soon to do it again. Or if it’s too soon to tell her I love her?
Chloe dozes off and I stare at the ceiling, lost in thought. In less than twenty hours the week is over. We’ll go home. I failed Erma’s job, so I won’t get my payment—the land and the cabin. But it doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve gotten something infinitely better.
I fall asleep to the sound of Chloe’s breathing.
It’s only five hours later that I’m pulled from sleep. Chloe’s answered the phone.
“Hello?”
I hear a man’s voice on the other end. “Chloe? It’s Matthew, from last night. To clarify, I’m the Matthew—”
“Right, I know who you are,” she says sleepily.
“Chloe, I found him. I found your Matt Smith. Can you believe it? He’s in L.A. His name is Matthias—”
He’s still talking, but I can’t hear him anymore. I’m watching Chloe’s face. There’s a thousand emotions there. I catalog them all. Disbelief, shock, confusion, dismay, hope, then, the worst emotion of all, the nail in the coffin—joy. Her face fills with joy.
26
Chloe
* * *
Time’s up…
* * *
Nick and I stand in front of the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen. I’m pretty sure it was on the cover of Architectural Digest a few issues back. I stare at the three-story home built mostly of windows and wood beams. It’s perched on a cliff with an expansive view of the Pacific Ocean. I can smell the salty water and hear the gulls and the waves. I’ve never seen so much perfection in one setting.
This is Matthias Smith’s house. My Matt Smith.
The sun reflects off the windows and I squint into the glare. We’re in a suburb of Los Angeles known for its expensive homes, open space, beachfront and stunning views of the ocean.
Number Six, as Nick calls him, drove us here. He has access to some serious databases, and after heading to his safe house last night, he decided to do some research on my soul mate story. He found the real Matt Smith, and since he felt bad about endangering our lives, he offered to drive us to LA.
“Are you sure about this?” I ask Nick.
He runs his hand down the back of his neck. When he turns to me he has a rueful smile on his face. “Promised I’d get you here, didn’t I?”
I look into his eyes and see all the colors I’ve come to love. Gold, hazel, deep brown, black. Last night, I felt like I could feel his soul, but now, I can’t read him.
“You did,” I say,
“But…”
He shakes his head. “But what?”
“What if we just go home?” I ask.
Number Six left right after dropping us off. We don’t have any money left. We don’t have any time. It’s the late afternoon of the last day to find my soul mate. I thought that maybe Nick was right and we create our own soul mates. Except, here we are. Fate pulled through and we found the man that I really first kissed. He’s inside the beautiful mansion only fifty feet away. My Aunt Erma predicted it and it’s come to pass. She’s never wrong.
My heart squeezes. She isn’t.
Nick reaches over and wipes my cheek.
“Don’t cry, Sparky.”
I choke out a laugh. “I never asked, why do you call me that?”
He shakes his head and looks away, out over the ocean.
“No you don’t, Nick O’Shea. After all we’ve been through, you’ll tell me why you gave me that stupid nickname.”
He turns back and I catch my breath at the look on his face.
“Because,” he says, “when I first realized I wanted you, it was like getting hit by an electric shock. Hurt like hell, but it was necessary to restart my heart.”
I step back, completely and utterly confused. “But you’ve called me that for almost twenty years. You—” I finally connect the dots. He’s loved me…for years.
I look at the house again. “Let’s go back to New York,” I say.
I ignore the fear and the complete and utter terror of trusting my future to an unknown and going against my aunt’s prediction. Matt Smith is guaranteed as my soul mate to never hurt me. Can the same be said of Nick?
My heart cries out, yes. Can it?
He’s watching me carefully. Then his jaw tightens and his eyes darken.
“I promised your aunt I’d get you to your soul mate. I promised you too.”
Why does this hurt so much? I step toward Nick and close the distance between us. “Okay. Fine. We’re here. Promise complete.”
He shakes his head and nods toward the mansion. “Let’s go meet the guy you were born for. Lucky Number Seven.”
I look down at my feet and then at the wrinkled dirty dress I’m wearing. I’m a complete mess. Post furry, post car chase, post best sex of my life.