Using my free hand, I pushed up to a sitting position and wrapped both arms around him. I whispered into his ear.
“Nothing in the world would make me happier than to marry you, Michael Sawyer. As soon as we reasonably can do it.”
Michael arrived at my dorm shortly before seven that evening. We had grabbed a fast dinner earlier, and then he had left me at Rollins Hall to dress for Dr. Sorrel’s party. He knew me well enough to realize that I needed plenty of primping time before I’d feel ready to go.
My college wardrobe consisted mainly of jeans and t-shirts, with the occasional skirt or sundress, but my mother had insisted that I would need at least one sophisticated black dress. I was glad now that I had listened to her, because this dress was going to be perfect for tonight. It was the sort of thing that looked nice enough on the hanger, but once I had it on and zipped, it was spectacular. The front criss-crossed into a v-neck, low enough to make me look a bit older without showing too much skin. It fell into a skirt that skimmed my knees and made me appear just a little curvier than I actually was.
I slipped my feet into strappy black heels. Around my neck I clasped Nana’s lovely pearls, a gift from my parents for my eighteenth birthday, and added the matching earrings that Michael had given me. The intense humidity of the summer months had subsided enough that my hair was still relatively straight; I left it down around my shoulders, as I knew Michael liked it that way.
I was just touching up my lipstick when Sophie came in from dinner. She raised her eyebrows and flashed me a smile.
“Look at you! All dressed up for the big botany party.”
I stuck out my tongue at her and she laughed. Her silky black hair swung around her perfectly shaped face, and I found myself envying her lovely skin and almond shaped dark eyes. It had surprised me when Sophie told me that she didn’t have a steady boyfriend and had never really dated seriously at all; I would have expected someone with her beauty and personality to be overwhelmed with male attention. But as I got to know her better, I realized that Sophie was focused only on her schoolwork. Her future was carefully laid out , and she wasn’t going to risk any boy messing up those plans.
I understood that mindset, but I was happy that my own life plans included the most breathtakingly gorgeous boy I’d ever met.
When Michael knocked at the door a few moments later, I was ready to go. He smiled his appreciation, raising his eyebrows meaningfully.
“Wow,” he said. “No one’s going to be thinking about plants at this party once they see you.”
“Too much?” I asked, frowning a little.
“No!” He shook his head. “Not at all. You look amazing.”
I grabbed a silky gold shawl against the possible chill of the evening and gave Sophie a wave and smile as Michael pulled me out the door. He held my hand as we hurried down the stairs and out into the darkness.
Once beyond the lights of the dorm’s courtyard, Michael suddenly swung me around and against his chest. I gave an oomph of surprise as his mouth covered mine.
So beautiful. Impossible to keep my hands off you...wonder how long we have to stay at this party...
I giggled against his mouth. “I share your sentiments,” I whispered, gasping a little as his lips nibbled down my neck. “But don’t you think we should actually go to the party before we worry about leaving?”
“Hmmm.” Michael moved his hands up and under my hair, holding my head still so that he could more easily plunder my mouth. Dizziness overcame me, and I began wondering hazily if there wasn’t a secluded patch of grass nearby where we could be really alone.
Michael grasped me by the shoulders and pushed me slightly away. Eyes closed, he muttered, “Botany party. Dr. Sorrel. Big picture.”
“Big picture,” I agreed, but I was still a little wobbly, and Michael had to hold my arm as we walked down the path to the parking lot and climbed into the Mustang.
The party was at Dr. Sorrel’s home. The white clapboard house was just off campus on a quiet street. Michael told me that several professors lived in the neighborhood. The tasteful yet simple homes reminded me of the area of King where Rafe Brooks lived, but I didn’t say that aloud. Rafe and his family were still a subject that was definitely off-limits, at least in my mind.
There were a few cars in the driveway and along the curb when we pulled up. Michael parked the Mustang a little further up the block and jumped out to open my door. I fussed with my dress for a minute, stalling.
“Hey.” Michael touched the side of my face, smiling. “You look amazing. Just relax and be yourself.”
I rolled my eyes. “You sound like my parents before every new school I started.”
Michael sighed and grabbed my hand. “Come on. Let’s go in so you can see that it’s going to be fine.”
Mrs. Sorrel, a short, round woman with cropped black hair, answered the door, smiling warmly as she greeted Michael. “And you must be our Michael’s young lady!” she beamed. “Oh, he’s told us all about you. And aren’t you just lovely!”
I blushed. “Thank you. Your home is beautiful. It’s very nice of you to have us.”
She waved away my words. “Not at all. Donald and I love to have young people around, and of course, he just raves about Michael here. Come in and meet everyone.”
I stuck close behind Michael, clinging to his hand as he led me into the living room. There were several other students, easily identified by their youth, and a few professors I recognized from campus.
I didn’t expect to know anyone there, so when an odd familiar tingling built at the back of my head and static filled my mind, I instinctively gripped Michael’s hand a little tighter. He turned to look at me, and his gaze stuck a few inches above my head. His mouth tightened slightly, and I felt an unfamiliar mix of recognition and uneasiness sweeping over him.
I swiveled my head back and up, looking into a pair of deep blue eyes. For a moment, I felt oddly off-kilter, as though someone had tilted the house and I couldn’t quite stay on my feet. Michael shifted me slightly so that I was leaning against his chest, his arm secure around my waist and his hand still holding mine.
“Hello, Cathryn,” he said, and I remembered. Cathryn Whitmore had been a teaching assistant for one of Michael’s classes last year. We had met very briefly at the homecoming dance, right before my life began to unravel.
“Michael.” Those perfect lips curved into a warm smile, and she reached out a graceful hand to touch his arm. “I was hoping to see you tonight.”
“What are you doing here?” The amazement in his voice made the comment less rude than it might have sounded. Clearly he was as surprised to see her as I was.
Her smiled deepened, and impulsively I dropped my mental block and reached toward her mind. The roar of white noise made me hiss in pain, and I hunched my shoulders against the onslaught.
Michael glanced down at me with concern. I shook my head slightly. Cathryn didn’t acknowledge me at all.
“I changed my mind about the research job. I was all set to leave, to move to Atlanta, when the alumni association offered me the liason position. I’m doing a little work for Dr. Sorrel, too. That’s partly why I’m here tonight.”
Michael nodded. “That’s good.” He brushed his lips lightly over my hair. “Cathryn, you remember Tasmyn? You met last year.”
Finally Cathryn dropped her eyes to mine. The warmth there for Michael clearly didn’t extend to me, but she managed a fairly cordial nod.
“And what are you doing up here, Tasmyn? I thought you were still in high school.” The subtle challenge beneath the snide comment didn’t escape my notice.
I pasted on a smile that was just as insincere as hers. “I graduated last May. I’m a freshman here at Perriman.”
“Really.” Cathryn was able to imbue that one word with an amazing combination of condensation and dismissal. “How nice for you.” She turned her attention back to Michael. “I was hoping maybe you would help with some of my work for Dr. Sorrel. I could
use a really fabulous assistant, and you remember how well we work together.”
Being ignored was one thing, but having a gorgeous older woman flirt outrageously with my boyfriend while I stood right in front of him was too much for me. Before I could control it, a flare of fury shot out, and a crystal candy dish on the end table next to me flew into the air and shattered against the wall.
The room was silent. Heat flooded my face, and I opened my mouth to apologize. But before I could say a word, Michael spoke.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Sorrel. I didn’t see that there and I must have gestured a little too dramatically. Here, let me clean it up.”
Conversation resumed as Mrs. Sorrel hurried over to us. Michael knelt to carefully pick up the larger pieces from the polished oak floor, and I wished I could sink into the ground. I wondered if anyone else had noticed what had really happened, and without considering consequences, I dropped all my guards and began filtering through the thoughts in the room.
My, what a mess...hope it wasn’t expensive...poor boy, how embarrassing for him...Leslie is handling it well, a good hostess...
And then my mind encountered that loud static again. This time, instead of mentally running from it, I pushed through the pain and into Cathryn Whitmore’s mind.
The noise grew louder, and I felt resistance. Determined, I pushed harder, and for just a moment, I picked up few stray words and fleeting images. Then the volume increased again, along with the anger, and I actually reeled backwards against the wall. Through the cacophony, I heard four distinct words.
Don’t mess with me.
Michael stood up, handing a brush and dustpan back to Mrs. Sorrel, who was waving away his apologies. She disappeared through a doorway that I assumed led to the kitchen. Michael smiled at me, telegraphing his reassurance and telling me through careful and well-enunciated thought that it was all right.
“See you later, Cathryn,” he said, taking my hand again. “We’ve got to say hello to Dr. Sorrel.” With that, we turned and moved across the room. I could feel Cathryn’s annoyance, but I didn’t look back.
The rest of the party passed quickly. We made small talk with Dr. Sorrel, and he introduced us to Mr. Tyler, the head of the Hamilton award committee. He was an easy man to read, and so I knew that Michael had made a wonderful first impression. All I had to do was smile and nod and pretend to know what they were all talking about. I performed perfectly.
Outside, we didn’t speak until we were in the Mustang with the doors closed and windows up. As he pulled away from the curb, Michael slid a glance at me.
“So...what was that all about?”
I sighed and shook my head. “Cathryn Whitmore. There’s something about her. Do you remember when I first met her at the dance? I couldn’t hear her. I mean, her mind was just static.”
Michael’s lips tightened. “I remember. Was it the same this time?”
“Yeah, only more so. I tried to push a little, to read her, and she pushed back. I’ve never really heard anything like that—except with—with Marica.” I stumbled over the name, not wanting to bring up that subject tonight.
“And that’s what broke the candy dish?” Michael was working to keep his tone neutral, but I knew he was worried.
“No. That was me being annoyed that she thought she could flirt with my boyfriend right in front of me.”
Michael grinned. “Ah, a little jealous, were you?”
I arched my eyebrows at him. “Do I have cause?”
He laughed. “Of course not. Cathryn’s just—well, she’s Cathryn. I enjoyed some of the work we did last year, and she really helped me with my papers. Nothing more than that.” I knew he was being honest, but there was something else that lingered.
“Maybe not on your part, but she wants more than a study partner.”
Michael didn’t answer right away. “Well...” he stalled. “She did kind of make it clear...last spring, I mean...that I didn’t have to be lonely. Without you.”
I willed myself to ignore the stab of pain. After all, the blame fell squarely on my shoulders. I couldn’t fault Michael for hanging out with a beautiful, intelligent girl when I was spending all my time with Marica and Rafe, doing things that I never should have done.
“Did she know?” I asked in a small voice. “About me. About...us.”
Michael shrugged. Neither of us was enjoying this conversation. “I just told her we were taking a break. I didn’t go into any details.”
We didn’t say anything else as Michael drove back onto campus. I stared out the window, not seeing the subtly lit brick buildings and the groups of students walking along paths and sidewalks.
“Hey.” Michael touched my arm, and I realized we had pulled up in front of my dorm. I turned to look into his eyes.
He ran a finger lightly over my cheek and kissed me softly on the lips. “I have an idea.” His words were tentative, and I heard the gist of his thoughts before he spoke the words. “What if you just call Sophie and tell her...you’re not going back to your room tonight? You know, so she doesn’t worry. And then you could come back with me.”
I was confused at first, and then my heart pounded so that I could barely hear myself answer. “Do you mean—stay the night with you? At your dorm? In your room?”
Michael flushed, so rare an occurrence that I had to smile. “Well—yes. I mean, you don’t have to stay in my room—or I don’t have to. Charlie is away tonight. They have a game in Tampa tomorrow, and the team drove down there this afternoon. I could sleep out on the sofa. Or ...not.”
I looked at him in disbelief. “What are you saying?”
Michael rubbed the large plastic steering wheel with the heel of his hand, a sure sign that he was uncharacteristically nervous. “I’m not saying we’re going to do anything. I’m sticking by our decisions. But I don’t want to leave you yet either, and I don’t want to have to walk you back across campus, or sit in your room with Sophie there.” He reached across and swept a lock of hair out of my face. “I would love to just. . sleep near you. I promise, I can behave like a gentleman. And no one has to know. Everyone at my dorm will just think you left late and got over early, if they even notice.”
Sophie would notice, I thought, but I didn’t say it out loud. I didn’t want to say anything to discourage Michael from this plan.
I smiled at him and nodded.
It was a dream. I knew that right away, but it didn’t stop my vague uneasiness and the sick feeling that rose in my throat.
I couldn’t tell where we were at first, and then a few things came into sharper focus. The clearing. We were in the wood by Lake Rosu, in the clearing where I had almost lost my life and where I had practiced elemental magic last spring.
Still, the setting wasn’t what made me nervous. It was the fact that I was lying on the forest floor...beneath Rafe.
He was over me, kissing me senseless. One of his knees was between mine. My arms were wrapped around his back. One of his hands was up beneath my shirt.
My heart thudded as confusion flooded my mind. Why was I dreaming about Rafe? I hadn’t thought about him, not really, in weeks. This definitely wasn’t a memory. We hadn’t been together at the clearing much, and when we had, I could only remember us fighting.
Pain struck and intensified until I wanted to double over, but it wasn’t the familiar guilt and confusion. Gradually it dawned on me that I was watching myself from a distance; I couldn’t feel Rafe’s lips or his hands. It was as though I were seeing it happen through someone else’s eyes.
And when I felt that pain again, I knew it wasn’t mine. The realization jerked me awake and left me gasping.
The room was dark and unfamiliar. I reached out to touch the slick bumpiness of the often-painted cinderblocks that were next to my bed in the dorm, but they weren’t there. Instead I felt the solid warmth of another body.
After a disorienting moment of panic, I knew where I was—in Michael’s suite, in his bedroom, in his bed. I drew in several steadying breath
s, remembering the night before and how I wound up sleeping next to Michael.
He mumbled in his sleep, and I sat up, trying to see his face in the dark. My eyes adjusted, and I could make out his frown. His lips moved again. I heard my name, and I felt the raw pain behind it.
I reached out tentatively, skimming his shoulder with the tips of my fingers. He stilled, and I touched his face, smoothing the wrinkled forehead. Michael relaxed, and I heard the dream float away from his mind, saw the images shift to a classroom here at Perriman.
Once I was sure he was okay, I eased away and out of the bed. The crocheted afghan that Michael’s grandmother had made for him was tossed over a chair, and I grabbed it before slipping out, closing the door behind me.
The living room was quiet and dark, but I managed to find my way to the worn and comfortable sofa that used to belong to Michael’s parents. Marly and Luke had sent it up with us as part of Michael’s contribution to the furnishings in the suite, and I loved having this little piece of home here.
Michael never mentioned Rafe, but if this dream was any indication, he was still dealing with some doubt about me and what had been between the two of us last spring. I flushed, remembering the intensity of Rafe’s touch and his own misconceptions about Michael and me. Boys and their insecurities...
I pushed away those memories and instead focused on Michael again. His dreams remained tranquil, and I smiled in relief. Clearly, though, spending the night with him was a lot more complicated than I had anticipated.
The drive back to Michael’s dorm after I had agreed to his plan had been a quiet one. Michael was second-guessing himself, worrying about what I was thinking, and I had no idea what to say or do. This was new territory.
When we got to his suite, Michael pulled out sweats and a t-shirt for himself and then turned to me. “I didn’t even think...you don’t have any clothes here. I’m sorry. This was kind of...” He ran his hand through his hair and blew out a breath. “I guess, kind of spur of the moment.” He glanced at me uncertainly. “Do you want me to drive you back to your room?”
King Series Box Set Page 77
