Forbidden (31 page)

Two things flash simultaneously through my mind. First, I love the feel of Michael’s arms around me. It is
home
. And second,
I just jumped out a freaking window!

“What are you trying to do to me?” Michael chokes against my ear. His arms tighten as though he can’t bring me close enough. Warm lips move frantically up and down my neck as he repeats the question over and over like a tortured chant. I don’t wonder about the odd question because I understand. His fear transcends losing me out the window; it’s the deeper fear of losing me from his life. This I know for sure because I feel it, too. As sure as I’m standing here with him, I know. The heart understands. The whole world seems to open up, and I feel the realization rush through me like warm water. My head falls back and my eyes close. My body is soft and pliable against him. My submission ignites something in him, and his kisses become urgent, demanding. His lips trail feverishly down my neck, and he clings to me as if realizing how close he came to losing me. Frantic kisses mix with his words.

“Don’t … ever …
ever
 … do … that … again!”

He cups my face, kissing quickly across one cheek to the other. He continues aggressively, almost violently, down my neck as if pouring out all his fear, all his anger, all his relief, into passionate kisses. His lips press against my ear.

“Promise me you won’t ever do anything like that again, Sophia. Please, promise
me.” He sounds desperate and tortured, and I am horrified to have scared him, to have been so careless with myself. With us.

“I promise, Michael.” I give my word as I give my heart, completely and without hesitation. Just like the night on the hill under the stars, I know I would give Michael anything he asked.

I touch his face like a habit I never had. So familiar, so unknown. The second heartbeat is tucked deep inside me, and the pulling is a wonderful tickle that toys with my heart. Michael’s beautiful face is flushed with energy, and his eyes, drowsy with emotions, are slowly churning back to pale blue. But something is different. Missing.

There is no more suspicion, no more struggle to be with me, no more denying what he feels. He has relented. Michael is calm, at peace.

We lean our foreheads together. “Michael, tell me what’s happening, please?”

“I don’t know what’s happening, Sophia. I just know it
is
happening. You are part of me, and … I won’t deny it any longer.”

I want to freeze this moment and keep his sweet confession in my mind forever. A beautiful memory pressed between the pages of our hearts. I feel owned by love, and free to give it back. For the first time in my life, I know where I belong.

Intoxicated with happiness, I reach for his kiss but he averts his mouth and brushes his lips across my cheek. He cups my face tenderly, and I lean into him. He smiles, and I tingle deep inside. The effect is powerful this time and makes me shiver. Michael laughs like he knows just how he affects me. And then his pale blue eyes begin a subtle stirring, like dark clouds working against the sea, the blue washes back and forth churning into cobalt and eventually indigo. The darkest I’ve ever seen. I am fascinated but scared. The last time this happened, Michael became enraged and pushed me away.

My heart trips over the certainty of his approaching anger. I tighten my arms possessively around his neck.
I won’t let him go. Not this time. Not ever
.

Michael’s eyes are dark and drowsy, thick black lashes descending slowly over them. His breathing is labored as he stares deep into my eyes. “It’s okay, Sophia,” he murmurs. “I understand that you’ve awakened something in me that … I shouldn’t … I never
thought
was possible. And I can’t fight it anymore. I’m not going anywhere.”

I lay my hand against the smooth plane of his chiseled jaw. My thumb traces his carved lips, and I imagine what it’s like to kiss them. With all his passion and pent-up frustration, Michael has yet to kiss me. I know he wants to. I see it in his eyes.

Desire
.

A slow, seductive grin plays along his lips, making my stomach clench and my body throb. I smile back in understanding.
He knows what I want. But why won’t he kiss me?

His arms slide around my waist, pulling me so close that you couldn’t fit a secret between us. He buries his face in my hair and inhales. I relax, too loopy in love to pursue why he won’t kiss me.

“Sophia?” he murmurs.

“Hmm?” My eyes are too heavy to open.

“We have a lot to talk about. This is rather complicated.”

I nod in agreement. After weeks of dreaming about it, I finally run my fingers through his gorgeous blond hair. So soft and thick, I barely feel it against my skin.

He withdraws but is flushed with excitement and working hard to focus. “Are you listening?” he asks softly.

“Uh-huh.” I breathe dreamily, twisting his hair around my fingers. He grins bashfully and sweeps my hand away, holding it tightly. I’m mesmerized by his change; one moment full of passion, the next struggling for authority, and the next blushing like a little boy.
My heart is gonna burst!

Michael glances around the room. There is an old stuffed chair pushed in the corner, and he leads us there. He pulls me onto his lap, and I go easily, lethargic and happy. His arms circle my waist and his eyes cut to my one shoeless foot.

“Dropped out the window.” I wiggle my toes and he laughs. I love his laugh! I loop my arms around his neck and watch the amusement play along his features. It’s a surreal moment, like I’ve stepped into someone else’s life. Never in all my lovesick crying fits did I allow myself to dream that Michael Patronus would ever want me.

But Michael now seems a million miles away, as though he’s just remembered something important. Fear pricks at my psyche.
Just how complicated does he mean?

“Michael?”

He turns serious eyes on me. “Sophia, what—exactly—happened here tonight?” He is questioning what
I
think happened here.

“I’m going to be honest with you, Michael. Will you do the same for me?”

“As honest as I can be.”

“Well, I fell out the window and you saved me. Just like I said you would.” I admit I am a bit smug when I say this.

“Technically, you
jumped
out the window and I
barely
saved you,” he corrects. I shrug at the details but wonder how close I came to being sidewalk splatter.

“Weren’t you scared at all?” he asks.

“Of course I was! You almost dropped me!”

He laughs at my honesty. “Good. You should’ve been scared. And you promised
never to do it again. I’m holding you to that.”

“Okay, I give you my word. And now you give me something, Michael. Tell me what’s happening. Explain how you know when people need help and then save them. Why do your eyes change color? And I know you can sense when I’m around—”

“It seems you can, too.”

“Yeah, but how? What’s it mean?”

“Tell me what you feel when it happens.”

“At first it was a sharp jolt. A stabbing pain right in the center of my chest that morphed into a second heartbeat. Now it just goes straight to the second heartbeat.”

“And when did you decide it had anything to do with me?”

“Well, I guess I suspected a pattern whenever you were around but it was hard to tell at first.”

“Why is that?”

I stare into my lap, embarrassed. I’m not sure how honest I want to be. “Well, my whole body was reacting to you.” I peek through my lashes, hoping he’ll understand so I don’t have to explain.

He is frowning. “How so?”

I roll my eyes. Okay, so he’ll know just how obsessed I’ve been. “You know, quivering inside, hard to breathe, pulse racing. The usual stuff.”

“That’s usual?” He sounds concerned for my health.

“It is when you like someone.”

Michael doesn’t look flattered, just pensive. Like when I catch him watching me in class.

“And what about when you slammed into me?” he asks like a physician to a patient.

I think about it and come up with an analogy but decide it’s too ridiculous to voice.

“Tell me,” Michael insists.

I eye him suspiciously. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

He holds up three fingers. “Scouts’ honor.”

“Well, it feels like peanut butter is stuck to the roof of my heart, and something is pulling and stretching—” I stop because Michael is biting back a laugh. I drop my head on his shoulder and mumble, “I’m an idiot.”

“True, but for jumping out the window, not for something you feel inside.” He scoffs, “I can’t believe you feel it.”

“Well, what do
you
feel?”

“The same throbbing when you’re near. And then … the pulling is similar but reversed. I don’t know how to describe it.”

“But what is it? Some kinetic energy thing?”

“I don’t know, really. It wouldn’t be so peculiar for me to feel something like this, but for you …” He changes his mind, keeping secrets close to the vest.

“Go on, Michael. Tell me what happens to you. Everything. How do you know to save people?”

He smiles complacently. “I’ve been as honest as I can be, Sophia. You have to trust me on this.”

“But you haven’t explained the most important part!”

He snuggles his face into the curve of my neck in an effective distraction. But I’m determined. “Michael, please!” I beg, and he laughs against my skin.

“You are the most stubborn person I’ve ever met.” His teeth nip along my neck and I squeal. My body tingles and my eyes feel sleepy. But I want more so I guide his chin up for a kiss. Michael withdraws, serious again.

“I can’t lie to you, Sophia.” He states this as a cold fact, and I am at attention. “This is complicated, so I won’t deny or admit anything. There are things we simply can’t talk about, at least not now. But you have to understand something. What you’ve witnessed and what happens between us must
stay
between us.” He gives me a pointed stare. “And we can’t tell my family how we feel about each other, not yet. Understand?”

My eyes widen. “Not even your brothers?”

“Especially not my brothers. They’ll see that we’re friends, of course, and that we’re finally getting along, but they can’t know anything else. Okay?” I nod mutely. “You haven’t mentioned your suspicions about me to anyone, have you?”

“No, Michael.” Excitement is bubbling inside me, and I’m nearly crawling out of my skin. “Can you at least tell me how it works?”

“No, Sophia.”

“But what is it? What … are you?” I hate phrasing it that way, like he’s some strange experiment gone awry.

He laces his fingers through mine, contemplating an answer. “What I
can
tell you is that you are safe with me, Sophia. I’ll protect you.”

“Yes, Michael, I know.”

“Oh, yeah. I guess you do.” He gives me a look and we laugh.

I’m welling up with the need to kiss him but he looks away like he knows. “Michael? Can you … do you have any special gifts … I mean other than—”

“Like reading minds?” He cocks an eyebrow, and my heart stops. I’ll just die if he
knows how much I want to kiss him. How much I want to be with him.

The corner of his mouth tugs back. “No, Sophia, that’s hardly necessary.”

“What do you mean?”

“Private thoughts lean toward free will and are off-limits. Besides, people change their minds all the time. Thoughts come and go, good or evil. They aren’t so harmful when they’re just thoughts. It’s intentions, actions, and motives that matter. I’m more in tune with emotions and—” He stops, realizing he’s saying too much.

“Please!”

“Sophia.” He wags a finger like I’ve tricked him. Then he clears his throat and continues in his parental voice, “Now, about Dante.”

I slump against him and groan. I don’t want to ruin this moment by talking about Dante. He seems so insignificant right now. “Pleeeeaaaase, can we get past this male macho thing?” I whine.

“What?”

“Or this territorial thing or coolest-car thing or whatever you guys call it.” I roll my eyes, highly aware that he is gaping.

“Is
that
what you think this is?” He sounds astounded.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you guys but you can leave me out.”

Michael studies me for a long, thoughtful moment until I grow uncomfortable. “What?” I demand.

“You seem to like him,
a lot
.”

“He’s okay, I guess.”

“You seem to like him,
a lot
.”

“Yeah, you said that already.” There is an edge in my voice and a look in my eye.

“Well?”

“I don’t, really. I hardly know him.”

“Then why do you spend so much time with him?” he asks accusingly.

“Well, mostly because he’s nice to me and not ignoring me one minute and glaring the next, like someone we both know,” I accuse right back.

“You’re hanging out with a De—with Dante because of
me
?” Michael now looks horrified.

I realize what I’m admitting but I can’t stop now. “Michael, you made me feel … invisible.”

He relaxes with understanding and rests his forehead against mine. “I was trying to make you disappear, Sophia.”

“Why did you want me to disappear?”

“I didn’t know how to handle you. You’re an enigma.” I laugh lightly, and he murmurs, “I’m still not sure how to handle you.”

I feel myself blushing. I’m intrigued by the mystery of our intimate awareness of each other, but my thoughts split into one of the many questions plaguing me for days. “Michael? Tell me something. Do you know Dante?”

His mood shifts, and he slips out of my arms and stands. I follow him to the window and watch him peer down at the party. He scopes the crowd until his eyes hit the object of his distain. Jaw muscle flicking back and forth, Michael murmurs, “I know
exactly
what Dante is all about.”

“Hmm.” My eyes become two narrow slits where suspicion peeps out. “That’s the same thing he said about you.”

His eyes snap to mine. “Stay away from him, Sophia.” His voice is harsh and commanding, the way it was in the cafeteria when he ordered Milvi to keep me away from Casey. A thought flits across my mind:
Michael is used to giving orders and having them obeyed
.