Old Souls (4 page)

His lips glided across mine and I savored the feel of his heat. And when his tongue twined with mine, I was shocked by the force of sensation that swamped me. I shouldn’t have felt such intensity, should I? I shouldn’t have felt pleasure so profound it was almost painful. And I definitely shouldn’t have felt like he was sinking so deep into me that a piece of him had settled into every cell of my body. And all of that was from a simple kiss. A kiss I hoped would never end.

My neck craned at an odd angle and I wanted to touch him so badly, but I didn’t dare. I was afraid to break this perfect moment. Nothing else mattered. He kissed me like he had in my dreams, as though he had nowhere to be, and nothing else existed but the two of us. I wanted it to go on forever, but all things have to come to an end. Eventually, I felt him pull away, although he did so grudgingly. He closed his eyes as if gathering strength.

That was some kiss.

“
Wow
that was some kiss.” I said, echoing my thoughts.

“Yeah, it was.” He chuckled, glancing to the television. “Movie’s over.”

I looked at the blue screen amazed so much time had passed. Then I turned back to him and my eyes locked on his.  “We could always try that again.”

“Sure, you probably want to actually see the ending next time.” He joked.

“I wasn’t talking about the movie.” I was surprised by the husky tone of my voice.

His lips quirked, the air virtually crackled around us as he leaned into me again. This time though, he simply brushed his mouth against mine so gently that when he pulled back I wasn’t sure he’d actually kissed me. Sighing deeply, he sounded even more disappointed than I felt when he said. “I’d better get going.”

It was surprising how upset I was at the thought of him leaving. Of all the things I’d wanted to happen, his going home wasn’t one of them. “I guess that’s best. We both have to get up early for work.”

He stood and headed toward the door. All at once, tension filled the air. It was like neither of us knew what to do next. Finally, Mark snickered breaking the awkward silence, “
Come here.” He pulled me into his arms. Wow, how had I not noticed how muscular he was? Holding me the way he was I was able to feel every dip and crevice of sinewy flesh. Unfortunately, that wasn’t helping squelch my arousal. It had been awhile since someone had enveloped me so tightly in such a fierce hug. We stood like that for a few minutes until he kissed the top of my head and released me.

“Sweet dreams, Alyssa.”

“You too.”

After locking up I turned and leaned my back against the door, placing my hand over my chest, as if the movement could somehow slow my racing pulse.

“Oh boy, I’m in trouble.”

 
                            ***

The next morning, I couldn’t stop the ear to ear grin that spread over my face. All I could think about was that kiss. Wow. Just the memory raised my body temperature, increased my breathing and had moisture flooding my panties. I had to stop dwelling or I wasn’t going to get any work done today.

It was hard to believe how attached Mark and I had become over the past few weeks. I felt like I’d known him for years. In fact, we’d fallen into such an easy rapport that I’d completely forgotten about our first meeting or his ominous warning. That is, until this morning when the weird shit started happening. It wasn’t what I expected, at all. To be honest, I didn’t know what I expected, but there was no way
I
could have expected
this
. And there was no way
he
could have predicted
this
.

It was a morning like most others, rushing around preparing for work. I was a commuter. I hated the city, preferred the peace and quiet of smaller towns, so I lived a good forty five minutes away—an hour and a half with rush hour traffic. This meant I rushed most mornings.

As I breezed through my morning routine, I glanced into the mirror and noticed a large, angry pimple had developed on my cheek overnight. It was so large and swollen it actually throbbed at the slightest movement.

“Fan-freaking-tastic,” I muttered.

Normally, I was lucky with my skin, it was rarely marred with breakouts. But when I did get a blemish, I got it good, and this one hurt like hell.

Fussing with my makeup for way too long, I tried in vain to cover it. Finally, realizing it was a fruitless effort I gave up and went to eat breakfast. After scarfing down my food, I grabbed my purse and gave myself a quick once over in the mirror before heading out the door. Belatedly, something odd occurred to me and I backed up, this time taking a good long look in the mirror.

“Holy Shit,” I exclaimed and inched closer to examine my now flawlessly clear complexion. “It’s gone.”

There wasn’t a mark on me. No red spot. No soreness.
Nothing
. It was as if the blemish had never existed. I ran to my bathroom mirror with the crazy idea that perhaps my front mirror was broken.

Y
eah, ‘cause that happens
.

Still nothing.

Not only that, but my skin looked fantastic, like I’d just spent a fortune at the spa. I poked and prodded for a while trying to figure out how this had happened.

After a
long,
internal argument, I managed to put the whole incident aside and forget it, convincing myself I’d imagined the whole thing.

The following day, I had a much harder time believing that what happened was simply the product of
my imagination.  I was hurrying even more than usual when I woke and discovered my alarm hadn’t gone off because the power was out. Struggling with my hair for at least fifteen minutes, I let out a string of frustrated curses that would have made a sailor proud. Natural curl always had a tendency to frizz, and I’m not one of those lucky people who can go without styling. I have to either curl it or straighten it, and both require power. I
am
lucky in the regard that my hair is long, almost reaching my lower back, and it’s thick. I just wish I didn’t have to always style it, especially on mornings without my blow dryer.

Running my fingers through the strands, I tried to tame the unruly curls to no avail.
Why couldn’t I have been born with straight hair?
As soon as the thought hit, I felt something weird, like pins and needles in my fingers. As I ran my fingers through the locks I felt a snapping, like static energy.

“Great,” I muttered, irritated. “Now I’m going to look like I’ve put my finger in a socket, as if today hasn’t started bad enough.”

I imagined my hair was sticking out everywhere. Only that’s not what was reflected in my mirror. Fascinated, I watched as a small light encompassed my hands and the strands of curly hair straightened right under my fingers. It looked like I had just taken a straightening iron to them.

“Oh. My.
God
.” I looked up, wondering if the light could have been shining onto my hands from some other light source. No, definitely not. The lights in my bathroom gave off a soft yellow glow—and they were off because of the power outage anyway. There was natural light filtering in from outside, but not much and it had a pinkish hue. The light shining around my hand was blue and too bright. And the hair I’d been touching was now perfectly dry, and perfectly straight.

Impossible.

Luckily, curiosity beat out fear and kept me calm. I ran my hand through to see if it would happen once more, but it didn’t. Staring at that section of straight hair, I was baffled…and a little annoyed. I didn’t have time for this. I was running late, Colin would be arriving to pick me up in five minutes and my hair was already
not
cooperating. Now, on top of that, I had one piece that was different than the rest. My frustration reached its peak and I wished like crazy I could just fix it, and
that’s
when the tingling started again. As soon as I felt it, I pulled my fingers through and my hand lit up again. The hair I touched straightened under that glow.

“Holy
crap. I can’t believe this.”

  Now I was talking to myself. Great, I was definitely losing it. I couldn’t figure out why it happened sometimes, but not others. Then it hit me,
it happens when I want it to
.
When I concentrate.

With total focus, I felt the charge of energy flow through my fingers, accompanied again by the electric blue glow, finger-combing my hair again and again. Before I knew it my entire head was perfect. It looked like I spent an hour on my hair with a shitload of product, a blow dryer, and a straightening iron—and I did it all with nothing but my bare hands in under five minutes. Was this what Mark was talking about? This definitely qualified as unusual, but if I told him what happened he’d think I was nuts.

Before I could rethink it, I rummaged through my purse and grabbed my cell. Pressing call, I waited for the ring.

“Hello.” His deep, smooth voice usually set butterflies swarming in my belly, but I was too frazzled to notice this morning.

“Mark?”

“Alyssa. Is everything okay? You sound a little…off.”

“Everything’s fine, I guess.” I was quiet. Now that I had him on the phone what was I supposed to say? “Could you
please
tell me what you meant by something strange?”

Silence.

Eventually he asked, “Has something happened?”

“Um, I don’t know for sure.” I hesitated to tell him about it. What if he thinks I’m crazy?  “I’m just wondering if your idea of strange is the same as my idea of strange.”

“You haven’t mentioned anything for weeks. What’s happened now?”

“Um…nothing, really. I just wanted you to tell me what you were expecting.”

“There’s something. Tell me.” There it was, bossy.

“I don’t…I can’t really explain. You’ll think I’m nuts.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, you’ll think I’m nuts?”

“No.” He corrected. “Yes, we have the same idea of strange. It’s time for us to talk. When you get to work come straight to my office. Understand?”

“Bossy.” The way I said it wasn’t really an insult, he knew I liked that about him.

“Well, I am the boss, Alyssa.” I could hear the smile in his voice and it made me relax a little.

“Okay, I’ll see you in the office in at nine.”

As I hung up the phone I heard a car honking. Good, Colin was here.

Balance

Still in shock, I lay on the gurney in the emergency room unable to reconcile the events that had brought me here—the strange incident with my hair this morning already forgotten.  It’s funny how the things I thought were important were quickly overshadowed by the terrifying incident of this morning. It had replayed in mind, over and over on a constant loop. I could see it all so clearly, and yet, I still wasn’t entirely sure what had happened. Staring unseeingly at the florescent lighting, I listened to the people milling about the halls and the steady drone of my heartbeat on the machinery. I was concentrating hard on trying not to think.

Suddenly, the curtain was thrown back and Mark appeared. The second I laid eyes on him I had the ridiculous urge to burst into tears, but I managed to fight it back. His face was etched with concern as he rushed to my bedside, stopping short at the edge. After scanning me thoroughly from head to toe he let out a pent up breath, his tension easing when he realized I was unhurt.

He’d been worried about me.

I was so touched by his concern I hadn’t notice him moving again. The next thing I knew, I was engulfed in powerful arms.

“Alyssa,” his voice was shaking. “Are you all right? I was so scared.”

“I—”

“What happened?”

“I—I don’t really know.”

“They said you and Colin were in a car accident. Is he okay?”

My eyes filled with tears, blurring my vision.

“Oh god, he’s not—”

“
No
. He’s fine. He’s in the bed on the other side of the curtain. I think he’s asleep. “I swiped at an errant tear on my cheek. “It’s just—”

“Something happened?”

Incapable of answering, I nodded.

“It’ll be okay, sweetheart.”

“I’m not so sure about that, you don’t know what happened.”

“Why don’t you tell me?”

I shook my head. “I don’t think I can.”

“Everything will be alright…as long as you’re okay.” He cupped my cheek and fixed his blue eyes on mine. “You
can
trust me.”

“I know, just, not now okay.” I knew I could trust him, felt it so deep inside. It was same way I knew how to breathe…instinct. Still, this wasn’t the right place to discuss it.

“Sure, but later.”  Tenderly, he leaned his forehead against mine and closed his eyes. Then slowly he raised his hands, cupping the sides of my face. “Dear God. That was the worst phone call I’ve ever received. When they said you were in a car accident. I… I can’t lose you again.”

“W—what do you mean, again?”