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You Are Here Page 9

by S. M. Lumetta


  “I don’t know, I don’t care, because you’re here!” she declared, binding our hands together and immediately jumping into questions. “So, if you grew up in New York, why do you have a bit of a southern accent?”

  I blinked, hating the disconcerting resurgence even more. I thought I’d left a lot of things behind ten years ago, but lately I did seem to be going backward.

  “Uh, I’m … from New Orleans originally?” How is that a question? “We moved to New York when I was seven.”

  She bit her lip but failed to dim the smile. “I don’t think I knew Drew was born there.”

  The mention of my brother sent a wave of discomfort through me and I struggled to keep the irritation off my face.

  She waved an excited hand between us. “Doesn’t matter! Come in, sit down.” She dragged me to her couch. It was situated under tall clear windows and bathed in the deep orange glow of the setting sun. She tucked herself into the space next to me and grasped my hand in both of hers.

  Instantly, I stood, breaking the connection. I couldn’t be still right now. I looked around the apartment, evaluating. The paranoia was in charge and I felt that my guard was under attack. Because it was.

  “Grey?”

  I didn’t know how to answer, so I didn’t. I walked into the kitchen. I pulled open and shut every drawer before I opened and scanned the refrigerator.

  “Are you hungry?” Her quick footsteps brought her closer to me. “I have clementines. Do you like clementines? You do. I already know you do. Delicious. Never mind. Oh, how about bubble baths? Do you like those? I do. A lot.”

  I pinched my eyebrows together and turned to look at her. It was the strangest stream of consciousness, and I couldn’t grasp the significance of such a string of questions.

  “I have no idea what to say to that.”

  She tried but failed to suppress a torrent of laughter, which only made me smile despite the expanding tangle of uncertainty I felt.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, covering her face momentarily. “I must seem like a hyena on meth, but I’m just so incredibly happy to see you.”

  “I wish I understood why,” I confessed, my voice strained. My feet itched to check out the other rooms.

  “You will.” She was luminous in her confidence.

  I doubted it, but my chest warmed with wanting to. With a tight roll of my shoulders, a subtle shiver skittered over my skin. I bypassed her to stalk back toward the door. When I felt fingertips digging in to my bicep, I momentarily forgot where I was and reacted instinctually.

  I twisted my stance and grabbed, about to break the arm attached to mine when I registered that it was Lucie, and the look of hurt on her face …

  “Ow! Oh, I-I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know what—”

  I avoided eye contact and ignored the heavy feeling in my stomach as I moved around her to walk down the hall.

  “Um, that’s my bedroom,” she said, and I swear I heard a blush beneath the confusion. “Grey, are you looking for something? There’s no one else here.”

  I stopped, my hand on her closet door.

  “I have to ask,” I began, my tone dulling her shine, “how do you know Charlotte and Drew?”

  She eyed me warily as though I’d accused her of something awful. But in a breath, her expression softened.

  “I didn’t even know your name until Charlotte said it.”

  I tilted my head, reflexively challenging her claim of ignorance. She rolled her eyes.

  “I told you,” she said. “I saw you. Did I not explain my ‘previews’ properly?”

  I let go of the closet door. “You’re clairvoyant. You see the future.”

  Easily picking up on my skepticism, she glowered.

  I responded by grinning because apparently everything she did was adorable.

  I’m unstable.

  Her countering sigh told me she was distinctly disappointed in my non-belief, and I was annoyed at how much that affected me.

  “I get it,” she said softly, crossing her arms. “It sounds certifiable. I don’t deny that. With everything I’ve seen of us in the future, though, I guess I thought you would be the one person who wouldn’t question it.”

  She grabbed my hands, “Grey, I can’t explain let alone comprehend why I know or how I see what I do, but I do. I guess if anyone should question it, it should be you, shouldn’t it?”

  I was at a loss. “You … you freak me out,” I whispered, kind of stunned at the admission.

  “There’s no trick here. If it makes you feel better, look through the closet,” she said with a hint of impatience, but not anger. She let go of my hands to gesture to each location. “Check the dresser, the bathroom, too. If you dive into the hamper, though, it’s at your own risk. I’ve been to a couple of extremely challenging and weird workout classes with Vivi this week. I’ve been told to call it ‘deodorant failure.’”

  I snorted involuntarily and felt a stab in the gut. Vivi, Nash’s wife. I shook it off.

  “I’m sorry.” I took her hands again. “I just don’t know how to reconcile how you make me feel with what I am.”

  She smiled. “I don’t want you to be sorry. I want you to be you, that’s all. I temporarily ignored that this isn’t solely about me. My ability is what gave me something to keep me from drowning. Since I woke up from the coma with amnesia—”

  “What the fuck?”

  “Oh, yeah,” she said sheepishly. A goofy laugh of relief barreled out of her. “I guess we have a lot to learn about each other, don’t we?”

  The look she gave me could bring the Titanic to the surface. My heart buoyed, and for a second I believed I could tell her everything.

  “Can I ask you a question?” Her expression was coy.

  “Anything.”

  Speaking of “what the fuck …”

  “Where’ve you been so long that everyone thinks you’re dead?”

  I stared at her, just breathing until an answer would come.

  “Gone,” I said flatly. It rang ominously of the nameless man I’d been all these years. Unease flashed in her eyes and I tried to pull my hands away.

  “No, Grey,” she said sharply, holding tight. “You can tell me.”

  I looked into her eyes again and the apprehension was gone. Maybe I wanted to see it, if just to give me an excuse.

  “So, why were you gone?” she asked. “Charlotte said you went into the military.”

  “I did.”

  She shifted from one foot to the other. “Here, sit down.”

  She gestured to the bed as I stood glued to the spot. “Let’s go back to the other room.”

  A look of clear embarrassment flitted across her face. With a nod, she smiled and led me back to the living room.

  Once I sat, she curled her feet underneath her and leaned into me.

  “Okay, now why did you go into the military?”

  “This is a bit too much for—”

  “I think we’ve established that this,” she motioned between the two of us, “is something inexplicable, and first date-ish rules don’t really apply. Not that I remember what first dates are like. So, tell me.”

  Admiring her tenacity, I decided give a little. “Did Charlotte tell you about my father?”

  She swallowed hard.

  “Yeah, well, that changed a lot for me. As much as my dad—the fake one—had pushed me toward the military, I’d always resisted.”

  I heard the bitterness in my voice and my stomach twisted. The obvious lack of closure unnerved me.

  “Then, when the sperm donor showed up to invalidate my life, it was the quickest escape. I enlisted so I didn’t have to deal with it all.” I continued before she could pity me, “I hated it, but it kept me … occupied.”

  “Escape from what?” Her voice was small, but the sadness was not pity. It was pain.

  “Myself.” I shrugged. “My mother had an affair two days before her wedding and conceived me. I don’t know when the un-dad found out, but I don
’t remember a day in my life when he was proud of me or told me that he loved me. And my mom, well, she was so ashamed, she couldn’t bring herself to stand up for me. Not when it counted, anyway. She just took whatever he threw at her because she figured she deserved it. I took it because I thought I wasn’t good enough.”

  “And when you found out the truth,” she started, leaving space for me to finish.

  “When I found out the truth, I knew I would never be good enough. I’d be better off if I were dead, at least in a manner of speaking.”

  My shoulders sagged as if I’d offloaded the world. I’d never spoken about any of that since it happened. The loss of that weight was simultaneously glorious and terrifying. My body forced me to suck in a deep breath.

  “It’s okay. You can stop. Just breathe,” she said, reading me expertly and gingerly taking my face between her hands.

  I let my head fall from between her fingers to settle back on the couch. Lucie pressed more firmly against me, leaving no space between us. With an elbow on the back of the couch, her fingers twirled in my hair. She completely relaxed me, and that feeling was so alien, it was almost an out of body experience. I turned my face toward her. Her mouth curved upward.

  “You’re better off with me,” she said softly. “I’ve seen our future, Grey. Together. And it’s going to be amazing. No matter what you’ve done or how you got here, you’re here. You can start over with me. Like me.”

  She pressed a kiss on my lips. “I have no memory of my life before the coma, all the details of which I promise to tell you. The point is, someone hit reset on my life, and I’m hitting reset on yours. Do-over,” she singsonged. She was so sweet.

  I wanted to confess it all, but my tongue nailed itself to the roof of my mouth. I’d never been so open with anyone, but I couldn’t carry the guilt of unloading my sins onto her shoulders.

  “You look so tired, why don’t you sleep? This sofa is ridiculously good for naps. I like to sleep in the red chair, but I don’t think you’ll find that as accommodating.”

  I raised my eyebrows, questioning. The idea of sleeping with someone else in the room was barely tolerable, if not for that someone being her.

  “Go ahead! Take your boots off, get comfy.” She stood when I failed to answer, bending down to pull on my boots. She was absolutely right about me being exhausted, though it had little to do with my incredible lack of sleep.

  “I got it,” I told her, my voice shockingly gentle as I leaned down to take off my boots.

  She took them and set them next to the fireplace, immediately returning to me and swatting my legs to put my feet up. Before I lay back, she kissed me first and then hugged me. Anxiety danced around the edges of my sight, but I was too distracted by the scent of her filling my head. I surrendered and wrapped my arms around her, the feelings of dread and discomfort disappearing. She hummed, seemingly willing to stay there forever, so against my better judgment, I let her. She pushed a little and we leaned back together. It didn’t go unnoticed how perfect she felt against me or how easy it was to let the world dissolve around us. Sooner than I would ever have expected, I fell asleep.

  Chapter Eleven

  Lucie

  Connection

  My veins thrummed with love. Or was it just adrenaline? Maybe lust. As I swept my eyes over the sleeping body of the man I’d been aching for, but didn’t really know, I felt certain. My soul sensed its match. Of course, that didn’t mean it would be easy.

  He and I coming together had every solace of coming home. The connection between us was practically corporeal, wrapping us up inside it, and with every touch, I was validated. A calm soothed and a fury ignited with just his hand in mine, and the mere thought thrilled and terrified me. Until him, I had nothing left to lose.

  What would happen outside of us? He was here now, but neither of us had arrived unscathed. If his interactions with Charlotte were any indication, reintegrating with his family—my adopted family and new friends—would be nothing short of painstaking. Emphasis on pain.

  I’d been so sure of it all, I blindly charged the second I saw him. The blink of time we’d had today was powerful. Even he couldn’t deny that, though he kept trying.

  Realizing my mind was running in circles, I pushed my worries away for a bit and rested my cheek on the pillow to stare at my man sleeping on his side pressed up against the back of the couch. His face was so serene; I wanted so much for him to keep that when he woke. There was something dark about him. I wondered about his impromptu search of the apartment and jumpiness when I had touched his arm.

  I tickled my fingers over his hair onto his face, careful not to wake him. I was desperate to touch him, my hand floating over his cheeks, the planes of his neck, chest, and shoulder. He unconsciously adjusted to pull me closer and hold me. Rushed with euphoria I was happy to become familiar with, I snuggled up and kissed his forehead, eventually settling back on the pillow. I fell asleep to his deep rhythmic breaths.

  ~

  I woke to a dark room. We had barely moved, though his forehead touched mine. I became increasingly aware of his hand on my ass. Grey seemed to be asleep, but he was rubbing tiny circles on my butt. I smothered a chuckle, but apparently not well enough. He moved his head back, his hand halting its attention. His lids lifted to unveil those gorgeous baby blues. The humor fell from my cheeks as we stared at each other, time and space pausing as I fell in. Under fathomless depths, among the debris of his doubts, I found and lost him over and over.

  Carefully, I cupped his cheek, his eyes blinking slowly while his hand moved to cover mine. The heat from his palm seared my skin, releasing a sigh that broke in the middle. Something in his expression solidified and darkened, and it was then I saw the face of a man who knew what he wanted. And he wanted me. Replying in kind with a mirroring appetite, I darted my tongue over the tender skin of my lower lip, my teeth lightly scraping after it.

  He maneuvered us so that he hovered over me and settled his weight onto his arms. His eyes took in my face slowly, longingly until he seemed to break. He leaned in to brush his lips along the edge of my chin from one side to the other, eventually finding their way to mine.

  The kiss was slow and intense. His mouth owned me, sending a quake from the tip of my tongue through the ends of my toes. A blast of heat rolled from the center of my chest out into my limbs.

  I could feel him everywhere as we devoured each other, lost in the tactile awareness of mapping each other’s bodies. I was easily distracted by his muscles as they flexed and shifted under my fingers.

  Continuing a circuit, I lightly traced around his nipple a few times before pinching lightly and rolling it between my forefinger and thumb. That broke his concentration, because he tore his lips away from my neck and sat back on his knees to tear off his shirt.

  I sat up swiftly to meet him halfway, my arms wrapping around him as we reconnected. I wrapped my left leg around his waist with my right pushing against the back of the couch. Though it was a roomy couch, it wasn’t that roomy. I didn’t care, but as I struggled to pull his hips against mine, lack of space sent us tumbling onto the plush rug covering the hardwood floor.

  I laughed until I caught myself, suddenly aware that it could break the bubble. In the parking garage, he was in a zone until that asshat coughed. To my extreme delight, he pulled me against him tightly and kissed me harder, pinning me to the floor. I moaned into his mouth and reflexively bucked against him. Then he flipped us so that I was straddling him and he helped me out of my top. I reached back, unhooked my bra, and tossed it across the room—maybe into the fireplace, I didn’t know.

  A corner of his mouth turned up, earning me the appearance of a delicious dimple on his left cheek. He looked at me, really taking his time. I thought for a moment I should be self-conscious, but the fire in his eyes as they drifted over me made that impossible.

  My mouth opened in a desperate gulp for breath, and his gaze snapped back to my face. Pulling me closer, our open mouths touched, sharing
breath as he slipped his hands carefully up my sides to my breasts. Attentively, he caressed them gently, brushing his thumbs over my nipples and sweeping across the underside, all the while staring into my eyes. My heart pounded, my hips impatiently moved in erratic circles, and my jaw opened again from the relentless teasing.

  Finally, he fused our mouths together for another ferocious kiss. It was faster, hungrier, deeper. Grinding my hips down onto him, I could feel him, firm and ready. He thrust his hips up against me and I broke, my head falling back to release an uneven cry.

  Lips danced down my neck and collarbones to adore my chest and tease my nipples to attention—I could hardly catch my breath. I was on my back again when he pushed forward over me. Panting beneath him, I tried to focus on feeling what he was doing to me, and allow myself to enjoy it. But it wasn’t long before I needed more. My hands reached for his zipper, but he had moved too far down so I was just scratching at the thin treasure trail along his lower abs. He let out a chuckle, reaching down to release the button and climb out of his jeans. I glanced down and—

  Fuck me, he rides commando. I just came.

  A playful, lopsided grin plastered itself on his face. I realized I was unconsciously licking my lips again. Wide-eyed, I smiled and he dove in to kiss it off my lips.

  I worked off my skirt as quickly as I could until he wrenched it the rest of the way off. I watched him breathing for a moment, intoxicated by his urgency as he yanked down my panties, finally working them off my legs.

  No longer encumbered by our clothing, it was my turn to look. I pushed him backward to drink him in fully. Appeasing me, he sat back on his knees, gently running his fingers along the tops of my legs. Even with glimpses of him in my previews, I was much more affected in person, gazing over every facet with purpose. I sat up, moving to stand on my knees, too. I reached out, sliding my hands down his chest and stomach. He inhaled sharply as I took him in hand, wrapping my fingers around him and sliding them up and down. He closed his eyes and trailed his hands up to my shoulders.

  “Shit.” His hands dropped, mine didn’t.

 

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