Endless (5 page)

I didn’t have a toothbrush, so I used my
finger and toothpaste and lots of mouthwash. I took off my makeup
as well as I could and used Michael’s comb on my hair. It wasn’t
like he had never seen me without makeup or with my hair a
windblown mess, but somehow this, too, was different tonight.

Michael was already in bed when I emerged. He
was on his stomach, propped up on his elbows, messing with his
iPod.

“What are you doing?” I asked, perching on
the edge of the mattress.

He shot me a quick grin. “Setting up some
music for us. I thought it might be easier for you.” At my
questioning look, he added, “Don’t you always sleep with music
playing? You told me you do. To help keep out. . .thoughts.”

“You remember that?” I had told Michael how I
managed sleeping right after we met, the day we sat on the beach at
Lancer Park and I shared with him every secret about my unusual
gift.

He leaned over to plug the iPod into the
blaster on the nightstand. “Of course. I remember everything about
you.”

Tears threatened again, and I couldn’t speak
as a wave of pure love overwhelmed me. I climbed up into the bed,
kneeling next to Michael. Touching his face, I whispered, “You are
so amazing. I don’t deserve you.”

Something flittered across his eyes, and even
before I heard his thoughts, I knew what it was. Believing that
Michael was too good for me had played a part in our breakup.

Leaning down to kiss him, I added, “But I’m
keeping you just the same.”

He pulled me down on top of him into a deeper
kiss, holding my head captive. I felt his heart pounding beneath my
own, and I relaxed until I couldn’t tell his thoughts from my
own.

I startled out of my reverie when I felt
Michael’s fingers skim lightly under my borrowed t-shirt over the
bare skin of my back. For a moment, I didn’t breathe. I had to
concentrate on keeping everything inside me, everything I was
feeling, from exploding into a burst of power I wasn’t sure I could
control. And then, slowly and reluctantly, he pulled his hand back
and smoothed the shirt down. He shifted a little, laying me down
gently on the pillow next to him.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured against my ear. “I
didn’t mean to scare you. I just. . .” He smiled into my eyes,
hovering over me again. “I love you. I can’t wait until we can be
together. Really together. I know it’s the right thing to wait.” He
fell back with a cross between a groan and a sigh. “Maybe this
wasn’t such a good idea, after all.”

I found his hand and squeezed it. “It’s fine.
I’m not upset. I wasn’t sure I could keep control though. It’s
still so hard sometimes. Like tonight at the party. Before I know
it, glass is flying. I was worried just now about fire.”

Michael cocked an eyebrow at me. “Fire?”

“Yeah.” I swallowed hard, trying to think of
a good way to explain this. “Umm. . .fire casting is sort of
emotionally connected. It’s easier to do when I’m feeling very
intense. I was afraid if we’d gone too much farther, I might have
accidentally ignited. And not in a good way.”

“You cast fire last spring? Using. .
.feelings?” I heard everything Michael didn’t say out loud.

“Fear or anger work well.” I chose what I
said with care, not answering questions he didn’t ask. “It’s a good
protective skill to have.” An image of Marica standing just beyond
the flames she’d cast around my car flashed into my mind, and I
shuddered.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Michael scooped me into his
arms, holding me closer. “Don’t worry. We don’t have to talk about
it.” He reached over me to switch off the bedside light, and in the
darkness, I felt his lips on my forehead as he settled me against
the comfort of his chest.

“Go to sleep. I’ll be right here. I love you,
Tasmyn.”

I knew he did. But if his troubled dreams
were any clue, we did have to talk about it. And I wasn’t looking
forward to doing that.

“Hey.”

I shrugged away from the hand on my shoulder,
not willing to open my eyes yet. Sleep was blissful, warm and
comfortable.

“Tas. . .come on. Wake up.”

I blinked up into Michael’s face and
struggled to remember again where I was and why. The sun was
streaming in a nearby window, and I saw that Michael was dressed,
his hair still damp from the shower.

“Hi.” I snuggled back into the afghan.

“What are you doing out here?” There was no
condemnation in his voice, only curiosity and concern.

I stretched, buying some time before I
replied. I knew I had to be honest, but I wasn’t sure I was ready
to have this conversation right now.

“You were dreaming really loudly,” I said at
last. “It woke me up, and I came out here so I didn’t bother
you.”

“Oh.” Michael sat down next to me. “Sorry
about that. I don’t remember what I dreamed last night. And I
didn’t even think about you being able to hear that kind of
thing.”

I lifted a shoulder. “I didn’t either. It’s
never really happened before.” I pushed up to sit in the corner of
the couch and fiddled with the holes in the afghan. “Michael, you
were dreaming about me. With. . .Rafe.”

I felt his pain again before he answered me.
“Sorry.” The word was terse and clipped.

“I don’t want you to be sorry. I’m just
trying to be honest. You were upset, and that’s what woke me
up.”

Michael shook his head. “It must have been us
talking about fire and spells last night before we went to sleep.
It’s not like I think about that—about him, I mean. And you.”

“Michael, I want you to know. It wasn’t like
that, like you dreamed. We didn’t--” How did I say this? And if he
didn’t remember the dream, should I even bother?

I took a deep breath and tried again. “What
you were dreaming about—it never happened. I just want you to know,
in case you were wondering.”

Michael took my hand, tracing circles around
the knuckles. “I’m trying not to think about it. I know it wasn’t
you. You were being manipulated, used—I understand that.”

I squirmed a little. “But it
was
me.
No matter what circumstances. . .I let it happen. Aline and I
talked about this yesterday. Maybe you’re not being hard enough on
me about this. And maybe I’m letting you.”

Michael was shaking his head before I
finished talking. “Tas, we don’t need to talk about this. It’s
over. What happened is in the past. We’re moving on.” He swept the
hair away from my face. “Maybe I should be the one apologizing. I
didn’t have anyone messing with my mind, and I spent a lot of time
with Cathryn.”

“Did you kiss Cathryn?’ I asked, my voice so
low I wasn’t sure he heard me.

Michael flinched only slightly. “No. I never.
. .we only talked.”

“Then you have nothing to be sorry about.
Michael, I love that you’ve been so understanding and quick to
forgive me. But I want to make sure you realize I do need to be
forgiven. I did bad things.”

He was silent, but I heard what he was
thinking, and I smothered a sigh. “Not as bad as that. Not what
you’re imagining. Or dreaming.” I struggled to figure out the best
way to explain it all to him. “When Rafe took me out that first
time, I was miserable. I didn’t want to be there. But then it was a
huge relief to be able to be open with someone, with anyone.”

Michael scowled. “When did I ever make you
feel like you couldn’t tell me everything?”

“Never.” I reached up and tried to smooth the
frown from his forehead. “You never did. But I knew you wouldn’t
like what I was doing, just like my parents would have flipped out.
It was easier to believe that you were close-minded than that I was
doing something wrong.”

He heaved a sigh. I knew he still didn’t get
it, but he wasn’t going to push me. “Okay. So you could tell Rafe
stuff you couldn’t tell me.”

“It was just that I knew he wouldn’t tell me
I was wrong. At least, I thought he wouldn’t. By the end. . .he was
mad at me almost all the time, because of what I was doing with
Marica. At one point, he said he knew how you felt, always worrying
about me.”

Michael was struggling. He was trying to
understand, but he didn’t really want to know any of this. He
passed a hand over his face.

“I know I should be grateful to him. I mean,
he kept you alive and relatively safe when I wasn’t there. He stood
by you when Amber got hurt. But I gotta say, it’s not easy. I just
want to. . .I don’t know, pound his face in.”

I bit my lip. “It’s me you should be mad at,
Michael. That’s what I’m trying to say. It would be easy just to
let Rafe and Marica take the blame for what happened. But those
were my choices, my bad decisions. I want you to know that I’m
sorry, and that I don’t take your forgiveness for granted. I want
us to go on from here on solid ground. Not with you wondering how
far things went between Rafe and me, not with me afraid you’re all
of a sudden going to decide that what I did was too much for you to
handle.”

Michael pulled me closer. “Never. I promise
you, Tas, there is nothing we can’t get past. You’re right. We have
to be open about all of this. But don’t ever think I’m going to
change my mind. Anything, anything at all, we’ll get through
together.”

Mondays were my favorite days for classes. I
had European history, Intro to English Lit and Humanities, all
before lunch, and then the entire afternoon off. I stepped out of
the shade of the brick buildings and blinked in the relentless
sunshine.

“Tasmyn, hi.”

I knew the voice before I turned. Cathryn
Whitmore stood just a few feet away, preternaturally still. Her
white blonde hair was sleeked back into a low ponytail, and she
wore a short straight skirt and ruffled white blouse. Apparently
the heat didn’t affect her at all. I fleetingly wondered if maybe
she was a vampire. It fit.

She raised one perfect eyebrow and smirked at
me. I suddenly remembered my suspicions about her and had the
sinking feeling that she was hearing everything I was thinking.
Talk about the shoe being on the other foot.

“Tasmyn, I was hoping you would have lunch
with me this afternoon. Are you free?”

A million and one excuses flew through my
mind, but since I was fairly sure she already knew the truth—I had
no plans at all—I only nodded. It seemed pointless to play games
and ask her why she wanted to eat with me. But my new cautious
nature prodded me just in time.

“I need to call Michael, though. I always do,
after class.”

Cathryn spread her hands in a be-my-guest
gesture, and I pulled out my phone. Seconds later, I heard his
voice on the other end.

“Hey, gorgeous! How was your morning?”

“It was good. How about yours?”

“Ah, not bad. Quiz in math kind of kicked my
butt. Are you heading to lunch or the library?”

I glanced at Cathryn, still standing in the
same place, watching me in amusement. “Actually, neither. I-I ran
into Cathryn, and she asked me to have lunch with her.”

Michael didn’t answer right away, but when he
did I heard his surprise. “Really? Do you think that’s a good
idea?”

“I think it’s fine. You know where I am and
who I’m with.” I met Cathryn’s gaze with my own steady eyes. “I’ll
call you after and check in, okay?”

“Yeah. Listen—be careful, right?”

“Of course,” I smiled. “I love you. See you
at dinner.”

I dropped the phone back into my pocket and
turned to Cathryn. “So, where do you want to eat? Dining hall or
the grill?”

She made a little face and shuddered.
“Neither. I don’t have to eat on campus anymore. My car’s over
here, and there’s a sweet little café in town. Have you tried
it?”

I shook my head as I followed her down the
sidewalk and into the parking lot to a light blue convertible. My
eyes widened.

Cathryn laughed. “Do you like my baby? Daddy
bought her for me when I graduated from high school. 2005
Thunderbird. He offered me a BMW for college graduation, but I’m
too attached to this one.” She hit a button on her key ring and
gestured to the door. “Go ahead, it’s open now.”