Borrowed Heart

by Linda Lamberson

  It wasn’t merely the act of touching Quinn that triggered how much I wanted him. Sometimes, I could hold his hand, embrace him, or even cuddle up with him without feeling any physical desire for him. Other times, we would do the same even when the passion was already sparked and I could still maintain complete power over it. But the mere thought of his lips on mine sent me reeling out of control. So kissing him was out of the question—at least for now. Thankfully, Quinn seemed to understand and accept this rule without me ever having to state it outright.

  And then there were the sticky grey areas—like right now. Quinn and I were flirting dangerously with each other. The sexual tension between us was reaching a breaking point. Our eyes were expressing all of the things we wished we could do with each other, making our bodies buzz with excitement.

  We were not only testing our own self-restraint, we were testing each other’s. We teased each other, pushing each other to the absolute brink of what we were capable of withstanding to see who would give in first. And at the same time, we were hoping that one of us would have enough willpower to resist temptation and enough fortitude to prevent things from going too far should one of us falter.

  Tonight, neither one of us moved; neither one of us surrendered.

  26. Homeward Bound

  One Saturday morning in early July, Quinn announced he had another surprise for me. His parents had gone out of town for the weekend, and he wanted to take me home. He stuffed a handful of CDs inside a backpack along with a few other things, and we were ready to go. After his half-hearted and unsuccessful attempt to protest my decision to ghost him until we reached the house, we left the apartment. Quinn hopped onto the Metra and headed north. A short while later, we arrived at his parents’ house in Winnetka. Walking up the driveway, I was greeted by a large, beautiful Tudor-style home framed by a huge yard.

  “Wow!” I gasped. “You grew up here?”

  “Yup—all six of us,” Quinn responded. “A few years after my parents bought this house, they bought the one next door and demolished it so we could build the indoor pool over there. So my brothers and I had a lot of room to run around when we were young. And then, of course, there’s the beach.”

  “There’s more?” I was stunned.

  “C’mon,” he said with a chuckle. “I’ll give you the grand tour.”

  I followed Quinn inside his parents’ home. Each room was decorated in a style consistent with the architectural design of the house—well, each room but one. Quinn’s bedroom differed considerably in that his walls were navy blue and his bedroom furniture was light in color and much more contemporary in style.

  “Because I’m still in college, my parents haven’t redecorated my room … yet. But I know my mom is itching to get her hands dirty in here.” Quinn smiled affectionately. “She never liked my taste in furniture.” He dumped his backpack on his desk and pulled a bathing suit out of his dresser.

  “Um, you might want to turn around … or not.” He smiled mischievously, barely giving me a second to close my eyes before he dropped his pants.

  “What am I going to do with you?” I exclaimed, turning my back towards him, my eyes still closed as he changed. I could feel the heat rush into my cheeks.

  “I can think of a few things,” Quinn said as he picked me up from behind and carried me over to his bed. He spun me around to face him before dropping me onto his mattress only to follow suit right on top of me. He pretended he was going to kiss my lips, but kissed the tip of my nose instead. I sighed both in relief and disappointment.

  “But first,” he announced, “I want you to go swimming with me.” He jumped off of me. “I’m assuming you can do whatever it is that you do and come up with some sort of bathing suit situation?” he asked, wiggling his index finger around at me.

  “Yes, I think I can manage … But, I don’t want to reveal my tricks of the trade, and I don’t trust that you’ll keep your eyes closed. So I’m changing in your bathroom.” Laughing, I flipped my legs over the other side of his bed and made a beeline for the bathroom with Quinn chasing me. When I saw him within arms’ reach, I playfully screamed, slammed the door shut, and locked it just before he crashed into it. A few seconds later, I appeared in a white bikini.

  “That’ll do,” he said hoarsely when he saw me. If his voice didn’t give him away, his eyes surely did; I knew Quinn liked what he saw.

  I followed Quinn to the pool house, which was equipped with a lap pool, a hot tub, mini-kitchen, a changing room, patio furniture, a television, a stereo, and a retractable glass ceiling. To say that I was impressed was an understatement. He walked over to the CD player and popped in the handful of CDs he’d brought with him from the loft.

  “I think I’ve spent more time in this pool house than in the main one … my home away from home,” Quinn mused as he walked back over to where I was standing.

  “Well, I can see why. This place is amazing,” I said in awe.

  “Well, I know my angel can fly—now let’s see if she can swim.” Quinn scooped me up and jumped into the pool, holding me. I shrieked in delight as we both plunged into the water.

  * * *

  Just before sunset, Quinn led me down to the beach with a bundle of firewood in his arms. It was a small stretch of beach that backed up to several private homes. Each nearby property line was marked by metal break walls that extended several yards out into the water. We just sat there in the sand as the sun-filled sky began to fade and the moon waited patiently on the sidelines until it was time for it to shine. For as far as my eyes could see and my ears could hear, there was no one on the beach but us. It was so quiet and beautiful.

  Despite the perfect backdrop, there still was something bothering me. My mind struggled to figure out what it could be, but no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t pin down what was causing the nagging feeling inside my head.

  “Quinn, I’ve never been here before with you, have I?” I asked out of the blue.

  “No,” he responded uneasily. “Why do you ask?”

  “It just seems like I’ve been here, or somewhere like here, before. But something about it is different this time.”

  “What?” He sat up and looked at me curiously.

  “It feels like … like I’m on the wrong side of the water.”

  “What?” he asked, confused.

  “It just feels like I should be watching the sun set over the water … like I should be on the other side of the lake.” I looked at Quinn, hoping he had the answer, but he just stared at me, equally perplexed.

  “Quinn … do you know where I was from?” I knew I shouldn’t have asked the question, but I couldn’t help myself. There was something about this beach, the smell of the water, and the feel of the sand on my toes, that seemed so familiar to me. Perhaps the source of my uneasiness stemmed from being homesick. Perhaps going to Quinn’s house and seeing all the pictures of him growing up with his family made me long to know where I was from—to connect somehow with my home … with my parents.

  “I thought we weren’t allowed to talk about your past.” He looked at me inquisitively, like he couldn’t figure out what I was doing.

  “I know, I know. You’re right,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s just that sometimes I have fleeting moments of déjà vu—nothing concrete, just random flashes. But this … being here right now … this is different. It’s like something is bugging me, itching for me to remember some part of my past. I don’t know what it is, but I can’t get it out of my head. So please just answer me this one thing,” I implored: “Do you know where I was from?”

  “I’m sorry, Evie. I wish I did, but I don’t.” Quinn looked at me and frowned.

  I looked out at the lake again—still nothing. I knew I wasn’t going to find any answers tonight, so I pushed the nagging feelings aside as best I could and focused on enjoying the rest of the evening.

  I helped Quinn collect twigs, brush, and small branches to create kindling for our bonfire. Once everything was set to go,
he lit the fire and we sat back waiting for the flames to catch. A brisk lake breeze swept over us, and he shivered slightly and goose bumps formed on his arms. I rearranged myself so that I was sitting behind Quinn and I began to rub his arms. I focused on warming up my hands a bit, hoping they would not begin to glow. It worked; his body temperature started to rise. He chuckled.

  “What is it?” I asked, partly amused and partly nervous that I had just given away yet another one of my secrets.

  “Nothing … It’s just that I’m sure you’re a lot better at this than I was last winter outside in the courtyard at …” Quinn’s voice trailed off. He looked out at the disappearing horizon, lost in a memory. From his silence, I knew it was a memory about us. He was respecting my request not to say anything about my past—a request that I myself had reneged on earlier that evening.

  “Should I stop?” I asked, pausing my hands.

  “No, it feels good,” he said, half-dazed. I continued to rub his arms for a few more minutes, thinking about how tough all of this had to be on him. How could I be so selfish and insensitive as to ask Quinn for information about my past that I wanted to know, but order a moratorium on all the information about us that he wanted to share with me? I felt miserable. I leaned into him and rested my cheek on his back.

  “Quinn, thanks for honoring my request to keep my past in the past. I can’t believe how inconsiderate I was to ask you to go back on the very promise I asked you to make.”

  “It’s fine … really.” Quinn turned towards me so he could see my face. “I mean, I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for you to resist asking the questions. I would be going insane trying to figure out who I was.”

  “I don’t really have a choice. If the price of knowing about my past is putting your life in jeopardy, then it’s not an option.”

  Quinn turned his body towards mine and quickly swept me up so I was sitting in his lap facing him. I wrapped my legs around his waist. Even in the firelight, I could see his deep blue eyes twinkling. His face softened as he drew me in even closer. He leaned his forehead against mine.

  “I love you, Evie. I will always love you,” he whispered.

  “And I will love you … always.”

  27. Family Matters

  The phone rang shortly after we returned from Quinn’s parents’ house late Sunday night. Quinn picked up his cell phone to see who was calling and immediately grimaced.

  My first reaction was that it was Ashley. To my good fortune, she had been out of town for the majority of the last month on back-to-back projects. And the few days Ashley had been back in the office, she was so busy playing catch-up that she only had time to send Quinn a few cursory emails here and there, nothing of any substance. My guess was that Ashley’s emails were simply her way of reminding Quinn she was still around—and still interested.

  Quinn let the call go to voice mail. A minute later, his phone rang again. He didn’t have to look at the caller ID to know that it was the same person calling again.

  “Damn it!” He grabbed the phone and walked into the bedroom. I did my best not to listen to the conversation, but I could still hear Quinn’s voice clearly, despite the fact that he was trying to be quiet.

  “What do you want, Brady?” Quinn demanded in a hushed tone. “You’ve got to be out of your mind … You know, Mom and Dad warned me that you would be calling to ask me for money … Hey, don’t rag on them. All they’ve ever done is try to be there for you and bail you out of trouble time and time again—and this is how you repay them? … How can you keep on doing this to them—to all of us? … Oh grow up, Brady … Yeah, well, you’re a sorry excuse for a son and a brother! … Fine. Great. I don’t want you to call me again—not until you’ve gotten some help.” When Quinn walked out of his bedroom, he looked annoyed and emotionally exhausted.

  “I guess you heard that?” he asked. I frowned and nodded my head affirmatively.

  “That was Brady—the brother I don’t really talk about.” He walked over to the couch and collapsed down on it. I sat down next to him.

  “He’s a complete mess,” Quinn continued. “To make a long story short, Brady’s what you would call the black sheep of the family. He’s only a year-and-a-half older than me, but he’s a compulsive gambler with who-knows-how-much debt right now. He dropped out of school a couple of years ago, and now he jumps around from city to city, usually because some big-time bookies are after him.

  Needless to say, my family and I are not happy about Brady’s situation. I went out to dinner with my parents last month; they warned me that he might call and ask me for money. I didn’t want to believe them, but they were right.” Quinn sighed heavily. “My parents cut Brady off, and they made me promise them not to give him any money—but he’s my brother; he’s my family … I don’t know what to do. I know that giving him money won’t help him, but I don’t want to leave him high-and-dry either. He could really get hurt. I mean, the types of guys Brady owes money to don’t mess around.”

  “So what are you going to do?” I asked.

  “Sleep on it,” Quinn said wearily. “I’m too tired and too angry to make any decisions right now.” I could tell this situation with Brady was really upsetting him.

  “If you let me, maybe we could figure out some way to help your brother together,” I offered as I walked over and wrapped my arms around him; Quinn returned my embrace. The anger in his eyes seemed to vanish, revealing the beautiful sapphire hues hiding underneath. All I could see was love. All I could feel was love.

  Quinn lowered his head towards mine and kissed me gently. I didn’t stop him. His lips felt so soft. He pulled back slightly and let his mouth linger for a moment. His breath was sweet and warm on my face. I wanted to stay in this moment forever.

  Out of nowhere, a crippling spasm ran through my chest. I felt my pulse stop suddenly, skip a few beats, and then start again as another spasm hit me. I winced. Something was wrong. I grabbed my chest and then realized that it couldn’t be my heart I was feeling. Stunned, I looked at Quinn. Surely, he had to have felt that. Surely, he would have reacted somehow to these searing chest pains. But he looked fine—completely unharmed. A second later, the pain subsided and the rhythm in my chest returned to normal.

  “Evie, are you okay?” Quinn asked, alarmed.

  “Are you?” I asked, equally alarmed.

  “Yeah,” he responded nervously. “Why are you grabbing your chest like that?” He pulled my hands away from my chest to examine what was wrong.

  “I’m not sure,” I mumbled, utterly confused. I looked Quinn up and down—nothing. I ran my hands over his chest to check for any internal injuries or damage—nothing. I didn’t get it. If Quinn and I were linked by his heartbeat, if his pulse echoed in my chest, then how could my pulse have stopped and skipped a few beats while his didn’t? My mind was whirring, trying to come up with an explanation.

  I seriously doubted the spasm was a result of Quinn’s kiss; the kiss could not have been a more pure expression of love. There wasn’t an ounce of heat stirring inside of me. But even if there had been, how could it have affected only me when I didn’t even have a pulse to begin with?

  No—something else was going on. As I understood it, my pulse was connected to only two things—Quinn’s heartbeat and the Time Keeper.

  Oh crap! Something must be wrong with the Time Keeper! I remembered Peter telling me that time as we knew it would stop if the Time Keeper broke—that everything would go haywire. I looked at my watch. Sure enough, the Incident Timer marking Quinn’s next scheduled brush with death was spinning out of control. What in the world was happening?

  “Quinn, I have to leave for a minute. Do me a favor and don’t go anywhere tonight, okay? Just stay here until I return. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “Another late-night meeting?” he asked, concerned.

  “Afraid so.”

  “Is something wrong? … Should I be worried?” He looked at me uneasily.

  “I’m sure I’
m just overreacting,” I said in an effort to calm his nerves. “But to be on the safe side, promise me you’ll be extra careful while I’m gone.”

  “So you mean I have to cancel my evening plans to learn how to juggle steak knives,” Quinn joked, but I could tell he was anxious.

  “Yes. And no sticking them in the toaster either,” I threw in, also trying to lighten the mood.

  “Oh come on, now, you’re spoiling all my fun.”

  “Sorry to rain on your parade,” I said as I quickly hugged him and kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll be back soon. However, should you end up causing yourself any knife-related flesh wounds while I’m gone, just call out my name. I’ll hear you,” I said as I walked out the door.

  As soon as I left his apartment, I teleported myself up to the roof and called out for Peter. But he didn’t come. After a few more minutes of calling for him without success, I started to get really scared. I decided to go find him.

  The Archives were empty, but I could tell Peter had been there recently judging from the open books and files scattered all over one of the reading tables. I looked up at the frescoed ceiling. It was dawn, and streaks of midnight blue, purple, red, and pink hovered above.

  “Bo Peep!” I heard my name shouted jovially from across the Archives.

  Startled, I whipped around to see Teddy standing right behind me.

  “Teddy!” I exclaimed. “You almost gave me a heart attack!”

  He roared with laughter at my words. It was only when I repeated them in my mind that I chuckled slightly too.

  “Where’s Peter?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure. He’s not up here though. I can tell you that much. But I wouldn’t worry that pretty little head of yours; he does that from time to time.”

  “Oh,” I sighed in disappointment.

  “Maybe I can be of some help. What’s up?”

  Acutely aware that my thoughts were probably an open book to anyone in the Archives who was interested in hearing them, I tried to focus only on the issues at hand. The first issue being that I had to get Teddy to leave the Archives with me and come back down to Earth. For one thing, Teddy couldn’t read my mind down there. For another thing, I hated the idea of leaving Quinn alone and unprotected in his apartment—even if just for a short while.