She nods and changes the topic. We joke around about her ‘Scott’ impression and share laughs about the party. While Glen can be a little overbearing sometimes, I get she’s in the dark about all of this. I just wish she wasn’t. But I wonder if there’s something she’s keeping from me too. I wish Scott would get his shit together so we can just blurt it out.
Excitement buzzes through me, seeing Nathan walking down the driveway. Scott hands him what looks like keys, and Nathan says, “Come on, Tracey.”
I jump off the trunk of my car with Glen following. Nathan points to the silver car, saying, “Get in. The doors are unlocked.”
Never. . .
I gasp, staring at the vehicle. “This is not your car!”
“That’s the same thing I said,” Glen says from behind me.
I think to Nathen, A C-Class five fifty Benz is your car?
Yes, it is. Is there a problem?
Dad drives one of these. I don’t know yet. There may be. I pull open the passenger’s door, getting in. You have to let me drive this, I think to him, closing the door.
Sure.
We pull into the parking lot of the movie theater and Glen gleams. “Oh, I love the show, Nathan! What are we seeing?”
My insides react violently to her speaking to him. The jealousy catches me by surprise, and I pinch my bottom lip between my thumb and index finger to distract the urge to comment. I’ve never been the jealous type, and I’m used to Glen’s flirtatious friendliness, especially when she’s talking to a boy I’m showing interest in. It could be in connection with this marking Nathan was telling me about. He might’ve forgotten to mention heightened jealousy.
“Glen, sit back. We’ll see when we get in there.” Scott grumps. His jeans rasp against the leather of the seat as he slouches and avoids Glen’s reach. I guess she rubbed us both the wrong way.
Nathan reaches over and grabs my hand. “It’s okay,” he murmurs with my fingers against his lips.
He parks, and the boys exit, round the car, then open our doors. We get out, and I take Nathan’s side as we head for the theater. He drapes his arm over my shoulders, asking, “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I drag the word, watching Glen and Scott. He smiles, telling something to Glen, making her match his smile. I can see what she means about his mood swings.
“Don’t worry about it,” Nathan says. “He’s fighting with himself. Half of him wants it and the other half doesn’t, so he has episodes of happiness and angry. Nothing serious that we have to worry about, but it would be easier on him and Glen if he’d stop fighting.”
I continue to watch them laugh and hold hands as we cross the parking lot. “Glen’s pain must be worse than what I had felt.”
“Yeah, because he’s still rejecting it, even after giving in to the need to mate. But she doesn’t know or understand what’s going on. And no, Tracey, it’s not your place to tell her. You can’t.”
“Why would you think―”
“I’ve gotten to know you, and I know how much you care about your friend. Just remember, you could ruin them if you mention any of what I told you before she’s ready to hear it from Scott. Okay?”
“Noted.” I huff a laugh. “How have you gotten to know me so well already? What’d you stay up all night reading my mind or something?”
“Yeah,” he says matter-of-factly, nodding. “That’s exactly what I did. Not like a stalker or anything. Being my mate, all your thoughts and dreams were just coming to me. You have a caring heart and are ambitious about the things you care most about. You really love your parents and friends, and I hope I don’t become a distraction from your passions.”
I look up at him. He faces forward, expression even. “You’ve already been a distraction,” I say, chuckling. “But now that I know what’s going on, it’ll be fine. What do you mean by mate?” I say the word awkwardly, assuming it has a foreign meaning.
“My mate. It’s what you are to me.” He pauses and follows with, “We are mated. Ideally suited for each other so we’ll have a lifelong monogamous bond. That’s the way it was explained to me.”
Ideally suited for each other, I repeat to myself. Like wolves mate for life? “I’m assuming to mating for, um, Sephlems, is like some weirdly insane mental, physical, spiritual connection that we have to each other. And I’m hoping it also explains this kind of animalistic reaction I’ve been having toward you. Like, I want you badly, and it’s very embarrassing.” Nathan chuckles, and I press my lips together hating I said it out loud but knowing he can hear my thoughts anyway. “This aggression I experience when other women talk to you must also be because of the mating, right? Did you forget to mention this? I’m usually at the top of my game, and nothing really gets to me, until you came into my picture. Not to mention,” I lower my voice to say, “I got so pissed at Glen’s I love going to the show, Nathan.” I mock her upbeat voice. “And that was really unnecessary.”
He rubs his chin and looks away from me. “Yeah, I did. But it’s great you picked it up on your own. It’s new to me too. Shit, all of this is new to me. It’s something we’ll both have to grow into together. That aggression you mentioned, I feel that for you too. Also in an awful, snatch you from the ground, throw you on the hood of one of these cars as I rip your clothes off, and try not to break you in half, kind of way.”
I blush and tighten my muscles as I shake the erotic image away.
“But I will not be doing that.” He exhales roughly and thrusts his hand through his hair. “And we’re responsible enough to not allow the mating to drive our emotions. So we’ll work on the flaws together.”
Even knowing mating is a as new to me as it is to him, I still feel at a disadvantage because I can’t read his mind like he can read mine.
The four of us agree to watch a book based movie about a futuristic story built around districts and an odd war, calling children and teens to battle each other. I’m not picky about what we do. I’ll just fall asleep anyway, I’m so tired.
We couple up in separate rows lapping our popcorn and drinks. Nathan and I sit behind Glen and Scott. I don’t know what’s more interesting, the movie, or the confused couple. Thirty minutes into the movie, Scott lets Glen rest her head on his shoulder. Five minutes later, he’s shaking her off. Ten minutes following, he’s lifting the armrest and scooting closer to wrap an arm around her.
Scott goes through the motions, and Glen’s expression morphs from ecstatic he’s finally allowing her to touch him to distraught when he forces her to stop. I avert my gaze and bite my bottom lip to stop myself from commenting.
Nathan’s dead as a log, slouched down, resting his head on the back of his seat. He just doesn’t know the drama he’s missing on the big screen and right in front of us.
When the credits run, I wake Nathan and interrupt the face-sucking going on between Glen and Scott. After dinner, which Nathan treats us to, we settle down at Scott’s and watch a baseball game Scott insisted Nathan had to see.
They debate over which team has the better players and their likes and dislikes from the recent draft picks. Their voices lull me to sleep, and I doze against Nathan. A second from my eyes closing, he’s waking me up to go. The game is off, and another is starting.
“It’s okay for Glen to stay over here,” Scott blurts as if someone asked.
“That okay, Glen?” I ask, yawning.
She nods, getting comfortable on the couch, taking the remote.
“Kay. See you two later,” I say, heading for the door.
I call Mom, wanting to check in since it’s getting late, and she lets me know she’s taking the weekend to visit Dad. I know her so well. And if it weren’t for Nathan, I’d be visiting with her. Dad’s job entails he travels back and forth from here to Tennessee where the headquarters is for the company. He’s been busting his butt on getting some gig, and it’s been keeping him away longer than normal. Mom may act like his being gone isn’t a big deal, but when she gets ‘the call’ of him prolonging his trips and the good ole ‘s
orry I missed dinner’ spiel . . . I take a huge notice of the pinch to her brows where her skin slightly wrinkles in their middle, and the crimson color her cheeks turn when she lies, telling him it’s okay or she understands. She might, and it might be okay, really. But as the weeks pass, she has to miss him more than I do.
It’s a little after midnight when I drive Nathan back to my house. We clean the family room, and he helps me fold the sheets, extra comforters, and blow-up mattresses and then puts them away for me.
Unable to lift another pillow, I plop down on the couch and kick off my shoes.
Nathan slides his arm under the bend of my knees and in lifting me up, cuffs his free arm around my back. I let him carry me to my room, too tired to fight it. He lays me on the bed. “I’ll grab your shorts for you to change into if you’d like.”
I yawn. “Thanks. Second drawer from the top.” I point to my chest of drawers near the window. He throws them to me, and I leave to the bathroom to change and freshen up. I return as he’s walking from the chaise to the bed, shirtless. He brushes his hand over his hair, causing the muscles in his chest and stomach to respond to the movement.
I admire him, tracing the cuts in his waist with my gaze. My gosh, he’s ripped, exposing his golden tanned skin pulled taut over ripples of muscles in his stomach and high sitting chest.
His workout routine has benefited him greatly.
Swiping his shirt from the bed, he turns away from me, heading for the chaise.
I flick my gaze away, praying his back doesn’t look as good as his front. Don’t look, Tracey, don’t look, I tell myself, squeezing my eyes shut. Keeping a good girl distance is already challenging.
I peek.
Argh. He looks just as good as it felt last night. His back muscles flex as he ambles to the chaise where his bag sits. “Dude! Why do you look like that?” He said not normal, not freaking Adonis!
Nathan looks over his shoulder, fixing me from the corner of his eye. “What type of question are you asking me?”
His body calls to me. I step to him and lift my hands to place them just beneath his shoulders. The heat of his body meets my palms as I hover, an inch from touching his back. As I exhale, a magnet like pull draws the beds of my fingers to his skin. My palms follow and a peculiar energy radiates between the contact. I lick my lips to fight a sudden urge to kiss him, but fulfill that desire by gliding my hands down and around his waist to his stomach. He feels incredible. Skin smooth, body firm. My fingertips rise and fall over the ridges and creases of his physique. They travel to his chest and back down again. A sigh creeps from Nathan and his head tilts back. I travel over his navel, following his smooth trail past his waistline. He catches my hands in his and moves them upward, lacing our fingers.
My bottom lip trembles as I place a kiss to his spine. The muscles react beneath my lips, and I rise on my tiptoes to place another an inch above the last.
He squeezes my hands tighter. “What are you doing?” His voice attacks the silence.
“What are you not doing?” I fire back in a whisper, lips moving against his skin.
He turns around and takes my face in his hands. “This isn’t you talking.”
I throw my hands around his neck and tug him down, planting my lips on his. I drive our kiss, inhaling as I do. He smells extraordinary, his scent a narcotic, it’s uplifting and inebriating. A ratifying sense rushes over me as my head lightens and thoughts center on him.
He lifts me by my thighs and effortlessly carries me to my bed. Without a break in our kiss, we lay, and I’ve never been this flighty or eager to feel someone against me.
“Nun-uh.” Nathan pulls away, shaking his head. “Tracey, wait.”
I grumble. If he only knew how much my body is craving him, he’d stop telling me no.
“I know you’re aggravated, but I also know it would upset you if we did this and you weren’t ready.”
I look down at him kneeling between my legs. “No, I’m definitely ready.”
“You’re ready?” he asks, moving from me so we aren’t touching. “Hold your breath before you answer.”
“Why am I holding my breath?”
“Just do it.”
I do, covering my face, confused. I want it, I do, but . . . I’m not ready. Nowhere near ready. Frustrated, I force my hands up my face and over my head. It’s not right to go there right now. I don’t even know his last name! “Okay,” I grump, letting go of the breath. Taking in another, all the angst rushes back. I don’t understand. “Why is this such a battle?”
“You’re drunk,” he states.
“I am not. I haven’t had a drink today.”
“From me. That’s what I meant last night about you need to control it. The same for me needing to control mine with you. We can become drunk from one another, and it’s overwhelming. Breathing in my scent, touching me, kissing me, and thinking about me will have you doing things you wouldn’t if you were just able to control one of those impulses. We can’t give into those carnal actions too quickly. And to add, you’re also affected by my urges.”
“Well, aren’t you affected by mine?”
“Yes.”
“Well, then why can’t you give in?”
He laughs, pulling me to sit up. “Hi, Tracey Warren. I’m Nathan Newcomb.” He extends his hand, and I meet it. “I was unfortunately born a Burdened Sephlem. My age to the human world is twenty. My mother and father’s names are Natalia and Nathan. They named me after my father, but we do not share the same middle name. Mine is Keith. Before I met you, besides working, my days were filled with fighting for the hell of it. I find a bit of relief when doing that. I also wasted my time with girls who meant nothing. Honestly, I’ve been with a lot of women, but I never cared for any of them.” His eyes shift away and back. “Yes. That’s bad, but I’m not sorry about it. Now it’s different. I only care for you and want you to be my world’s atmosphere. This shit’s going to sound crazy stupid. . . But I would tell you I love you if I hadn’t only met you a few days ago, if you could understand how I know everything about you, and if it was ordinary for humans to fall so quickly.”
“Love at first sight.” I scoff, shifting my gaze to the floor. “I’ve never believed in it. I thought it was all a load of crap. No way can someone instantly love someone else. No way can another person’s heart beat in your chest. That it’s impossible to feel anything more from someone in a touch than just a touch. But this is what I get from your definition of us mating. Love at first sight. There’s someone out there meant for you, and when you find them, there’s not a doubt. Grant it, it’s still really weird, but I know I am meant to be with you. I can’t explain what this is, but it’s not just in my mind, but also in my heart, fingertips, toes, the pit of my stomach. The awareness of you saturates everywhere my nerves rest and senses flow, Nathan.” I pause, making sure I have my words right. “It sounds crazy, but it’s real. This attraction, I had it for you before you touched me.”
Nathan leans over on his knees and cranes his neck to look back at me. “I don’t want you to be attracted to me. I want you to love me because you’re in love with me. Not because of this mating or the desires, not even because you think I’m attractive. But that you want me because you want to love me. No force. No efforts.”
That, I wasn’t expecting. His words slow me down and force a whirl of thoughts through my mind.
I survey his affectionate eyes, watching them fight for what color to become. By the clockwise and counterclockwise churn, it’s possible he doesn’t know what way to feel.
I kiss his cheek and say, “Okay, Nathan Newcomb. Let’s go to bed.” He nods. “Thanks for stopping us from going too far.” I climb under my sheets, and he pulls the comforter over me as he lies on top of it.
“Of course.”
I wake to Nathan asleep. Understanding washes over me, sensing things are different now. I’m falling hard. Maybe it’s the mating making me do so, an inner will that fate designed for me to feel this way. My he
art literally beats for him and can rest in his chest with the feeling of love. If I couldn’t feel it too, I wouldn’t believe it. But like the wind, or gravity, or oxygen, or even faith and sound . . . it’s there and strong.
It doesn’t seem normal, this prerequisite, but I can’t fight it―not anymore.
Propping myself up on my elbow, I study him. A worry line lies faint on his eyebrows, and his left eye has an almost unnoticeable twitch. I wish I could get into his head and see what’s bothering him, to know and understand him like he knows me. I want to know what moves him, what drives him to do whatever it is he’s so confident in doing.
I take in every feature. It’s perfection soundless sleeping; skin so smooth with just the right flaws, making his perfection human. Like the mole on the right side of his jaw and another right above his left eyebrow. A scar starting under his left ear scrapes down over his cheek to his neck and stops at his Adam’s apple. It looks like it was worse at some point, but has gotten better with time. How’d I miss that?
Parted lips draw attention to the easiness of his breathing, the peacefulness of his slumber. I lay my head on his chest to listen to my heartbeat. Just to confirm, I place my hand over mine.
They match.
reappearance
Rocks clatter against my window.
It’s the dead of night, Scott. Is a little sleep too much to ask for? I maneuver out of the bed, trying not to wake Nathan. He doesn’t move as I climb over his mountain of a body.
I cross the floor on my tiptoes and push open the window. “What, Scott?”
“Scott?”
Oh. My. Gosh. That’s definitely not Scott.
In all his bad-timing glory, none other than Michael Moore stands beneath my window. My first love, relationship, and everything else. Why is he here? I just knew he wasn’t coming back.
“You’re giving my love away to Scott? Scott Fallon?” Michael asks, throwing his arms out at his sides. His hoodie fits him loosely and when he spreads his arms, his sleeves look like wings. The mixture of shock and confusion causing his brows to furrow makes me think he’s going to fly up here and give me a piece of his mind.
Plight: A Dark Paranormal Romance (The Sephlem Trials Book 1) Page 11
