Five

by Christie Rich

  “Why didn’t your mom tell you, I mean, before. . .” I stopped in mid-sentence when I saw Camille was still sensitive about her mother’s death. Her eyes clouded right there in front of me, and she pursed her lips together. I’d struck a chord I didn’t mean to and wanted to comfort her. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I’m not always such a head case. I just miss her.” Camille was in so much pain. I tried to reason that if I only had a single parent and lost her, then was tossed into all the complexities of our society, I didn’t think I would handle it as well as she was handling it.

  In a happier voice, Camille said, “Let me try to read your mind.”

  “Uh, no. That’s okay. I keep mine blocked all the time.” Panic swept me. I was able to keep my mind blocked, but I worried about my defenses if I got too close to her. I couldn’t let her know how she’d affected me, or how much I wanted her.

  Camille laughed, “Even better, so I can practice without worry of seeing some gross guy stuff.”

  I froze, “Uh, Camille, I don’t think that’s such a great idea.” She ignored me and looked into my eyes; mine refused to look away. I blocked my thoughts with more force than I’d ever used in my life.

  She looked a little frustrated with herself, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Camille confessed, “Huh, nothing. Let me try this.” She swung her legs over the side of the deck chair so we were seated facing each other. Camille put her hands on either side of my temples; our lips were mere inches apart. I heard the splashing of the waves, a seagull echoing a warning overhead, and breeze whipping the flag at the ship’s stern. I continued blocking my thoughts, refusing to let my wall crumble.

  Camille repositioned her hands from my temples, sliding them down, cradling my face in her palms. Her gentle touch threw me off guard. In that moment I didn’t care if she read every thought in my head. My mind’s wall disintegrated in front of both of us. Her eyes widened when she saw a glimpse of my desire for her. I knew I could control my impulses no matter how strong they were to take her in my arms and hold her body to mine. I had just filled her mind with images of the two of us, where I wanted to be and what I wanted to be doing with her: walking in a tall meadow, the sun bearing down; on a snowcapped mountain, the only heat from our intertwined bodies; swimming in the crystal clear waters of the Caribbean near a deserted alcove. I savored each of these fantasies and shamelessly shared them with her, each more erotic than the previous.

  What I wasn’t expecting was her reaction to what was going through my mind. I expected her to slap me, to leap away and scream, to call me hundreds of names that I deserved – I never expected that her mouth would close the gap with mine in an instant.

  Her eyes closed, and I felt her soft lips press hard on to mine. My arms did the unthinkable and pulled her seated body off her deck chair and fully onto me. My veins, that last night felt like ice was coursing through them when I saw her, now had molten lava pumping through my body, and I had no recourse but to melt into her. Nothing else in the world mattered beyond the feel of her skin against me, the heat that generated between us, and her mouth on mine. We sat wrapped in each other for a short time before we both came to our senses and released.

  As I felt her body go tense, I sputtered out, “I’m so sorry, Camille, I didn’t mean for. . .I’m so sorry.”

  She shook her head, “I wasn’t expecting . . . the images.” I could see the turmoil on her face. “Drake,” she realized she was still wrapped around me and stood up, distancing herself from me, “we can’t.”

  With a heavy heart, threatening to slowly break in this moment, “I know.” I hung my head, unable to look into her brown eyes.

  “I mean, we can’t let that happen again, ever.”

  “I know.”

  “You’re engaged to Bianca.”

  “I know.”

  “If she ever finds out. . .”

  I looked up, purposely not making contact with her eyes, “She won’t. I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

  Camille took the towel off of her deck chair, wrapped herself up in it and sat down. I knew I shouldn’t, but I felt a longing for Camille. The towel could have been made of kryptonite, and it wouldn’t have diminished my hunger. She stammered, “I should apologize to you. You told me not to try . . . you know . . . to read your mind.” Her face flushed a deep crimson, and I wondered if she had been reacting to my desire or if she had a yearning of her own.

  I knelt down beside her and rested my head on her knees, “I’m an idiot. I knew I shouldn’t have come.” She didn’t make a sound, and I didn’t have the courage to look at her. “I swear I didn’t plan this.”

  I felt Camille’s fingers running through my hair. Her words were quiet, “I think we should steer clear of each other.”

  “Yeah,” I wrapped my arms around her shins, still not able to let go, “I promise, Camille, I’ll never do something like that again. I’ll take it to the grave.”

  “Is Bianca going to, you know – know?”

  “Only if you think about it. Do you know how to block your thoughts?” She shook her head that she didn’t. Dammit! No matter how strongly I felt for Camille -I couldn’t risk my family’s blood line. Camille looked horrified; hopefully her fear of being exposed would keep us both safe. Being this close to her was wrong, I had to let her go. I forced a smile, hoping she couldn’t see through it to the emptiness I felt as I moved away from her. I said, “Just don’t think about the kiss. If your mind starts to wander, think about a movie or something.”

  “Okay - think about something else, got it. Gretchen told me only the women Centaurs could read thoughts. You can’t read my mind, right?”

  I couldn’t help but smirk at her, “Technically, you should only be able to read the thoughts I’m not protecting. You caught me a little off guard when you touched me.”

  “Obviously,” she answered.

  I couldn’t help but laugh at her. I was mortified with my actions, and I knew she shared the same guilt. I could see it. I decided to change the subject before we had any kind of relapse, “I know this is all new to you. Did you find someone you liked last night?” She gave me the strangest look, and I felt the heat rising up again within me. “I mean at Bruce’s wedding, you met a bunch of Centaur men. Any of them contenders? You seemed to have hit it off with Gus.”

  “Ha, that’s the one good thing I have to look forward to. I don’t have to choose anyone for five years.”

  Her statement surprised me, and I looked up at her, “What do you mean?”

  “It’s a really long story, but I’m not going to choose anyone until I’m twenty-seven.”

  “Your father’s okay with that?”

  “Sure, why wouldn’t he be?”

  “I’ve just never heard of a Centauride waiting so long.”

  “Good things come to those who wait.”

  I nodded. I was a lucky man to be chosen by Bianca. I’d find a way to keep Camille out of my thoughts, too. I took Camille’s hand, telling myself to savor the few more seconds I had with her before this fantasy was over and my reality kicked back in. “Let’s go find Brent and Bianca.”

  As we walked toward the doorway to go to the lower deck, a large wave rocked the boat hard and Camille fell into me. Steadying her, my arms found her one more time. When I didn’t let go, I thought she’d chastise me, but she pulled me into the wall just to the left of the double doors, so no one could see us through the glass. I didn’t release her, I couldn’t. I could feel my hands shaking. She belonged in them.

  Her eyes were wide, her voice accusatory, “Never again, right?”

  I couldn’t deny the lust I felt for her. My hands refused to release her. My body leaned into hers as I whispered, “Not after this one.” This time, it was I who closed the distance between us. I knew it was wrong. I knew if we were caught, we’d be screwed, and the shame we’d bring on our families would be unbearable, but I lost myself in Camille anyway. All the things I knew I should care about did
n’t matter when she was in my arms. I told myself this would absolutely be the last time my arms were able to hold her, and I wanted to drink her in, to consume her, to cherish this memory for the rest of eternity. I didn’t hold back. In that moment, I shared every ravenous thought of her. When my eyes opened, I looked down into hers. I could see how she felt. She was torn exactly the same way I was. Our time was over. I confessed, “We always want what is exactly out of our reach.”