The Bringer (16 page)

My skin is prickling with desire. He holds my face in both his hands, his fingers tenderly invading my hair, eyes set on mine, unwavering, as he leans closer to me, my eyes closing in anticipation . . .

“
Oh, sorry, mate.”

James instantly steps away from me, turning to the sound of the voice. My body wilts with disappointment. I look past him to see Joe, one of the men that works for him, stood in the doorway.

Joe looks uncomfortable, about as uncomfortable as I feel when I notice the three other people hovering behind him, my cheeks instantly colouring as to the size of our audience.

“
Sorry to interrupt, just –” Joe thumbs over his shoulder at the others, “-well we’re – er – well we’re gonna head off.”

“
Oh right, yeah, no problem, mate. I’ll see you out,” James says. He glances back at me, his look unfathomable. Then he’s turns and leads his friends out the door.

And I’m left there feeling alone, and very, very confused.

Chapter 10

Starry Eyed

James hasn’t said anything about the almost-kiss and neither have I.

Well truthfully we’ve barely spoken to each other since.

Not long after Joe and the others left, the other party guests pretty much followed suit and the party soon dwindled to a close.

Now it’s just me and James left cleaning up the debris in complete and utter silence.

And the tense atmosphere is back, with a vengeance, almost as if whatever’s been brewing in the air for the last few days has now hit boiling point.

James drops a bag of rubbish into the bin with a clang and then, taking some time to do so struggling with his leg, awkwardly sits himself down on the blanket that’s laid out on the grass. He rests back on his hands, legs stretched out in front of him and looks over at me.

“
So, did you have a good night?” he asks, voice normal, as though nothing nearly happened between us just under an hour ago, making me momentarily wonder if I imagined it. “Well apart from when Sara flipped out on you, that is,” he adds.

I refrain from thanking him for the reminder, and skipping over the addition, I say, “Yes. I had a really lovely time. Your friends are all very nice.”

“
Apart from Sara.”

I look down and shuffle on my feet.

He laughs. “It’s okay, you don’t have to like her. I wouldn’t if I was you.”

I take a moment to process my feelings. “I don’t dislike her. I think I’m just confused by her.”

He laughs again. “That’s a nice way to put it. A hell of a lot nicer than I would have.” He rubs his forehead and pushes his fingers into his hair. “I just don’t know what’s with her at the moment? Why she’s got it in for you?”

I drop my bag in the bin and go sit beside him, crossing my legs in front of me, and rest back on my hands. “Does it make you sad?”

He turns his head to me, gaze fixed on mine. “It only makes me sad because she’s hurting you.”

“
I’m fine.”

“
I wouldn’t be if someone said those things to me.”

I shrug because right now all I can think about is how close my hand is to his. Really close. I could literally just reach out my finger and touch him. And with all these intense feelings floating around me, it’s very hard to resist the urge to do so.

James shuffles his position and his fingers lightly stroke against my hand. My skin prickles. He doesn’t move them away.

“
And just for the record,” he says, voice deep and sure, “I don’t think a word of those things she said is the truth. I don’t believe you’re after my money.” He nudges my arm with his. I look at him to see he’s now grinning. “Not that I have as much as she seems to think I do. It’s not like I’m a millionaire or anything.”

“
It wouldn’t matter to me if you were.”

He rests his chin on his shoulder, regarding me closely, eyes curious. And my whole body shivers, though I’m not cold. “I’ve never met anyone like you, Lucyna. You don’t seem to care about money or material things. You just seem so . . . relaxed with who you are. “

“
Is that wrong?”

He shakes his head, smiling. “No, it’s refreshing.”

He rests his head back and gazes up at the night sky and I follow his gaze. The stars are out in force tonight, twinkling down on us, leaving me feeling very starry-eyed, or maybe that’s just from the effect his touch is having on me.

James’s quietly shuffles closer to me and lays his fingers over mine, gently gripping them with his. He’s practically holding my hand and all my thoughts have gone fuzzy.

In attempt to clear my mind I say, “James, I wanted to say I’m sorry I didn’t get you a gift for your birthday –”

He waves me away with his free hand. “Don’t be stupid. I know you’re not in a position to be buying me stuff – and I don’t need anything anyway.”

“
I know but still . . .” My voice peters off.

We lapse into silence.

“
I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk much at the party,” he says. “I didn’t seem to get a minute to myself. But I saw that Neil kept you company.”

“
Yeah, he’s nice,” I say struggling to concentrate as he now traces his fingertip in concentric circles across my hand.

“
Yeah, Neil’s a good bloke . . . so what did you guys talk about?” he asks, his voice suddenly quieter.

And Neil’s words come flooding back to me. I press my lips together, suddenly feeling nervous, anxious, tempted . . .

“
James, why aren’t you and Sara together like a couple?” I blurt out. I honestly have no idea where I’m going with this line of questioning.

He sits up, his hand moving from mine. “What makes you ask that?”

Keeping my eyes straight ahead, I say, “Just when I was talking to Neil earlier he said that he thought you two, I mean you and Sara, should be together as a couple, and I thought well . . . maybe he was right.”

He shakes his head. “Sara’s my friend – well she’s skirting on pretty thin ice at the moment, but still, I’d never see her as anything more.”

“
But she’s very beautiful and –”

“
I’m not interested in Sara,” he cuts me off, his insistent tone forcing me to turn to him. His serious eyes roam my face and he leans closer to me. He’s so close I can feel his hot breath on my skin. And for a moment I’m transcendent. Then his voice, the only sound in this still night, says, “I’ll never be interested in Sara because I’m only interested in you.”

Then he leans forward and kisses me and nothing else matters.

His lips touch mine, so gently at first, but then very quickly the kiss intensifies. His stubble grazes against my face sending shivers rippling through me, the heady scent of his aftershave intoxicating me. This is beyond amazing, so beyond anything I could have ever dreamt up. All I feel is complete and utter euphoria. Then like a bolt out of the blue, I suddenly get a sense of familiarity. Like I’ve done this before. With him. Which is obviously impossible. It must be all my dreaming and wishing that’s caused a sense of déjà vu.

Then, without warning, James breaks away leaving me cold. He moves back from me breathing heavily. My lips are throbbing and I’m so charged, so heated, I can’t form words.

“
I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” he says, breathing hard.

And just like that the atmosphere has disintegrated, the happiness of the moment snatched away from me.

“
You’re sorry you kissed me?” My voice sounds unnaturally high.

“
No! Well yes – I mean no. I mean – I don’t know what I mean.” He shakes his head, and glances up at me through his lashes. “I wasn’t sure if you would want me to . . . I thought maybe you might but –”

“
Did my reaction not tell you I did?”

“
Yeah I guess so . . . I just –”

“
You just?”

He brings his knee up to his chest, wrapping his arms around his leg and rests his chin on it. “Look, Lucyna, I know you said the other day that you still love your ex, and I also know I was the one who just kissed you – but I really don’t want to come in the middle of something, because when we spoke it sounded like you had unfinished business with your – your ex, and well if we started something and then you decided to get back with him then –” He shrugs, eyes away from me.

Oh no.

I didn’t even consider how he would interpret my words. How could I be so stupid? How on earth am I going to get around this?

Of course I want to tell him the truth. I want to tell him he is the guy, that he is the only reason I feel love, the only guy that I ever have – and ever will love. But how do I manage that without telling him the rest, without telling him I’ve lied about everything.

I look down at my hands as though they can somehow help me, whilst desperately trying to search for the right words. “James, I –”

But he cuts me off before I can even make an attempt. “No, it’s fine, Lucyna. You don’t need to say anything.” He tries to get up but struggles, so in the end I help him to his feet.

He stands before me, affliction in his dark, brooding eyes. “Seriously, I get it. It’s fine. And it doesn’t change anything about you living here, honestly. Look, I’m tired, I’m gonna go to bed,” he adds, before walking away. “Don’t worry about the rest of the mess. I’ll sort it in the morning.”

I stare after him, watching as the light at the end of the tunnel dims, flickers, then goes out completely, wondering just exactly how I went from complete euphoria to complete misery in the space of five minutes.

Chapter 11

All The Time In The World

Two minutes later, and I’m still stood here in the garden on the same spot where James left me, still feeling the wake of his departure, still trying to fathom what just actually happened.

It’s at times like these when I see why we Bringers aren’t supposed to feel. There would be no way we would cope with death in the manner we have to when feelings are so complex, so intense, so imperious . . . so raw.

Everything insistent. Everything urgent.

Emotions discharge like rockets, change course and then change again within a matter of seconds and, honestly, I struggle to keep up. My head feels like its spinning on my shoulders.

The only thing I can register right now, which thankfully is the most important thing, is that James has feelings for me. And these are not just feelings of friendship or because I saved his life, but they are
those
kinds of feelings, the feelings I have for him.

Actual, real, one hundred percent feelings. For me.

My whole body is tingling in the knowledge and I would be jumping up and down on the spot with elation if it wasn’t for the fact that things aren’t exactly turning out as I would like.

Because James thinks I love someone else, this being purely down to my idiotic way of trying to subtly tell him that I’m in love him.

It would be funny if it wasn’t so tragically ironic for me.

‘
He gets it,’ he said. I wanted tell him that he really doesn’t get it, that he’s so far from getting it he may as well be on a different continent. I wanted to tell him that I have spent the last four weeks dreaming that he would feel this way about me, dreaming that he would kiss me.

But I didn’t because I can’t.

I put fingers to my lips to the place where I can still feel his kiss.

I have to correct my mistake in some way. I don’t know exactly how or what I’m going to say to him, but I’m sure the right words will come when I need them to. I’m so adept at lying now and, really, what’s another one to add to my ever-growing collection.

Before I know it I’m stood outside his bedroom door. The lights are out in his room and all is quiet. Nerves ripple through me.

I lift my hand to knock on his door. Nerves withdraw my hand. Maybe he doesn’t want to talk to me. I take a step back.

No, I’ve come too far, given up to much, to just chicken out, especially when I’m so close to having my dream, so close to having him.

I lift my hand and quickly knock on the door before I can change my mind.

“
Come in,” James’s deep voice comes from the other side.

I push the door open. He’s sat up in bed, duvet covering his legs, his chest bare, back resting against the headboard, the room now aglow with the light emitting from the lamp on his bedside table.

“
Hi,” I say quietly.

He pushes his fingers through his hair. “Hey.”

I close the door behind me, and linger there. I never felt so nervous since, well . . . since I started feeling. I clasp my hands together and stare at the wooden floor that sits cold beneath my bare feet.

It’s so silent in the room, neither of us speaking, and I know I should be the one to speak, but I can’t find my voice. Then, oddly, I realise this is the first time I’ve been in his bedroom since I changed form.