Mirror Image: Shattered Mirror Prophecies Book 1

by Bailey James

  Damn it. Where is he?

  I really miss him. As much fun as I had with my family, seeing my parents together has only made me miss Jackson more.

  My radio is still playing, and another slow song comes on as I pull out a silk nightie from my drawer. I hum along and move my hips slowly as I remove my shirt and imagine Jackson’s hands are mine. I trail them along my skin, tracing lightly over my stomach, up my sides, and along the curve of my breasts, before sighing and pulling the top over my head.

  “Stop daydreaming, Lily. It’ll never happen,” I say to myself.

  “What’ll never happen?” Jackson asks, startling me.

  I spin around and run to the mirror, too happy to care he scared me. “Hi!”

  His grin is salacious when he says, “Hey, gorgeous. Miss me?”

  My own sly smile slips onto my lips. “Nope.” I pop the ‘p.’

  His lips curl even more. “No? Well, then I guess I didn’t miss you all that much either.”

  I give a flippant shrug. “Good, then we can go on not missing each other.”

  He laughs, his eyes making a slow pass down my body and then up again. His eyes darken to almost black along the journey, and goosebumps rise along my skin when his eyes meet mine.

  “That was some show you just put on.” His voice is deep and husky.

  My face warms, as does my center. “You saw that?”

  “Well, not all of it. Your back was to the mirror.”

  “Oh,” I say, oddly disappointed. I should be glad he hadn’t seen anything. Shouldn’t I?

  “Maybe you’d like to continue it, now that you’ve got my attention?”

  His fingers caress down the mirror and sketch down it in almost the same pattern I had used with my own. My skin tingles as if he’s touching me instead of the glass.

  My breath catches in my throat, but I shake my head. “I’d be too embarrassed.”

  “Don’t be embarrassed, Tiger Lily.”

  I don’t answer.

  His voice is almost a growl when he says, “Well, you’re sexy even wearing pajamas. I can only imagine what you would look like without them. But I’ll be a good boy and just sit here and admire the view.”

  My blush burns hotter, and I stare at the floor. For the first time since we’ve started talking, I notice his shirt is off, and he’s only in pajama bottoms. The sight of his naked chest makes my mouth go dry. Swimming has definitely been good to him. The strong muscles of his chest are well defined, yet lean. They taper into a six-pack of abs that makes me want to drool before tapering more into that sexy-as-sin V.

  Biting back my embarrassment, I purr. “The view’s awesome here, too.”

  He grins back and places his palm on the glass in front of me, waiting until I do the same. As one, keeping our palms together, we slide down until we’re sitting on the floor in front of each other.

  His eyes roam over my body as mine do the same to his, sending more tingles over my already supercharged body. My heartbeat accelerates and, from what I can see from the pulse in his neck, matches his.

  My breath clogs in my throat when he says, “You are so beautiful, Lily.”

  “Thank you,” I manage after a minute.

  He moves so only his fingertips touch the glass, sliding along the area my palm covers. The surface is so warm already, I can’t be sure, but I swear there’s a change in the temperature: a slight one, but enough to cause a shiver to run down my arm.

  “Are you cold?” Jackson whispers, his eyes moving from my palm to my face.

  “No.” I raise my other palm to the glass, and he copies me, trailing his fingertips down the image of my hand.

  My heart skips a beat, and I have to look away for a moment to stop the spinning in my head. When I glance up again, he’s watching me.

  “The moonlight is different over there,” he says. “Softer, somehow.” He moves his fingertips to the center of the mirror, brushing the surface in a curve. “It just barely touches your cheek.”

  I cover my cheek with one hand, sure I’ll find some trace of him on my skin. As it is, I can just barely feel that cheek is warmer than the other. My heartbeat fills my ears in the quiet of my room. It surprises me he can’t hear it.

  “It’s not fair that it gets to touch you, but I can’t.” His voice is all kinds of dark and husky, making me tremble even more. “Is it strange to be jealous of it?”

  My heart trips over itself when I hear him speak the lyrics of my favorite song. Jackson presses his right hand to the center of the mirror, and I bring mine to meet it. Palm to palm, we stare at each other. His breaths are as shallow as mine. If I tilt my head, it appears that my hand covers his heart.

  “It’s the glass that makes it unfair,” I whisper. “How did you get through to save me, and now we’re both trapped?”

  “Maybe if we concentrate…” he murmurs.

  We match up our hands once more, staring into each other’s eyes.

  “Concentrate,” he whispers.

  I nod, afraid to even blink. I imagine my hands sinking into the warm surface and finding the heat of his palms on the other side. I can almost feel it thinning.

  “Close your eyes.” Jackson’s voice is just a breath, but I do what he says.

  How can I not?

  “Concentrate.”

  No more glass, no more glass, I chant in my head like a prayer.

  The heat under my hands grows—it’s hot, almost to the point of pain, but it doesn’t burn me.

  “Do you feel something?” I whisper.

  “Yes.” His voice is tight. “You feel closer.”

  There’s a rustle, and I open my eyes to find Jackson up on his knees. His fingers are still splayed on the glass, fitted to mine, but now his chest is just inches behind them, and his mouth is close enough to steam the glass.

  I swallow. Hard.

  He’s so close, but just out of reach. I mimic his position, rising up on my knees. My breath fogs the mirror a few inches below his, and I tilt my face up to close the gap.

  He opens his eyes and finds me gazing at him. With a slight tilt of his head, our breath makes a perfect match.

  My body tingles and strains toward the glass. “Please,” I whisper.

  “Please,” he echoes, his eyes slipping shut again.

  I close my own and press hard into the glass, willing it away. The heat between our hands crests and, for a moment, I swear I feel the touch of flesh, but then as quickly as it comes, it’s gone. I gasp and gaze into Jackson’s eyes.

  “Did you feel that?”

  “I’m not sure. I felt… something.” He sighs.

  I rest my forehead on the glass while disappointment makes me aware of the floor biting into my knees and the chill of the room. Jackson touches his forehead to mine, mere millimeters of glass keeping us apart. I lean back and use one fingertip to scrub away a bit of the condensation from my breath.

  He leans back as well, but his eyes are still dark, his breaths uneven. He straightens his shoulders. “Does this mean the same thing in your world?” he asks and draws an X and an O in the steam on his side.

  I nod as an overwhelming sense of relief pours through me. “I think so.” I huff a new patch of steam near his markings and draw a heart.

  He smiles and touches his fingertip to mine at the base of the heart.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Just when I’m about to remove my finger, Jackson’s eyes lose focus. “Close your eyes,” he whispers.

  I do it immediately and smile when I feel sand beneath my bare feet and hear waves slapping along a beach.

  We’re back on Dog Island, and I’m once again wearing the silvery dress I’d worn at prom. He’s also wearing the same outfit from before.

  I give him a quizzical look.

  “It’s easier to imagine what we’
ve already seen,” he says, then shrugs. “But I’ve come prepared this time.”

  “Oh?”

  He holds up a small silver disk thing. “It’s a stereo. What do you say to a dance in the moonlight?”

  My lips curl. “I’d say I’d like that very much.”

  He clicks a button and then tosses the disc near the tree line. A band pops up in hologram form almost instantly, and big band music pours out into the night.

  “Sinatra?” I ask. “You had him over there, too. Isn’t he a bit cliched?”

  “Nah, besides, it took me forever to find it. Sinatra wasn’t as popular here as he was in your world.”

  I laugh at that and let him pull me into his arms and sway with me. I lean against his chest, breathing in his scent. It’s exactly as I remember it—chlorine and soap—and just as intoxicating.

  “You know, when this first started, I was worried I was lost in my own mind, but I think I can handle that, as long as you’re here.”

  He chuckles. “I know what you mean.”

  For what seems like hours, we dance under the moonlight until I can’t stop yawning.

  He smiles and leads me over to a blanket and then lies on it, drawing me down with him. Curling up behind me, his fingers brush the hair from my face before he nuzzles at the crook of my neck, tossing an arm over my waist.

  “Just sleep, Lily. I’ll be with you as long as I can.”

  I want to argue because the fire in my belly his touch incites wants to do so much more than lying down, but I’m already falling asleep. His arm grows heavy on my waist. Just as I fall asleep, I think I hear him whisper he loves me.

  When I wake, I find myself lying on the floor, curled toward the mirror. I blink a few times to clear the sleep from my eyes and then sit up and stretch my arms over my head. My elbows pop, and my back creaks. I make a vow never to sleep on the wood floor again and then snort at the absurdity. That’s going to be next to impossible.

  When my room was a mess, I could make a nest out of my clothes, but now there’s nothing but a cold hard floor to deal with.

  “Good morning,” Jackson says, and a thrill goes through my body.

  I twist around to see him smiling at me. His hair is disheveled and sticking up in places. His face has a giant red mark on his left cheek, and he’s still only in his pajama bottoms. I surreptitiously check to see if I’m drooling.

  “Good morning. I, uh, guess we fell asleep talking again, huh?” I ask, trying my best not to ogle his chest.

  He shrugs with a grin. “Yeah, I guess so. We should be used to it by now. Though I don’t think I’ll ever get used to waking up and seeing your beautiful face first thing.”

  I blush but smile. “Well, it’s certainly better to look at now that the bruises are gone. Now the only thing left to do is to get rid of this scar.” I reach up and finger the cut on my forehead.

  He draws a line across the mirror over the scar. “If you were here, we’d fix it up in no time.”

  “Yeah, I guess you could.” Then I blink as a thought comes to me. “Maybe we’re going about this the wrong way.”

  He raises an eyebrow. “Your scar?”

  I giggle. “No. The portal. Maybe I’m supposed to join you.”

  “No,” he says immediately. “It’s too dangerous here. You aren’t coming. If we can find a way, I’ll come to you. But you aren’t coming to this side.”

  “But what if that’s the only way we can be together?”

  “Then we won’t be together physically,” he says, his voice filled with steel.

  My heart sinks. He must see the expression on my face because his voice goes soft. He touches the mirror as if trying to hold my face in his hand.

  “Lily, I’d rather spend every day of my life looking at you and never touching you, than to touch you—even for a second—and lose you forever.”

  My heart feels like it’s going to burst from the emotions filling it. “I lo—” I’m cut off when my phone rings.

  Damn it, I think and rush over to answer it before I wake anyone in the house. I set the ringer to loud at the restaurant and forgot to turn it back down when I got back.

  “Hello,” I growl into the phone.

  “Lily. Uh, hi. How are you?” Tyler asks, sending my heart fluttering.

  Man, I’ve missed his voice, I think, but then tense and shut it down. I can’t afford to feel anything for Ty anymore. My reasons for breaking up with him haven’t changed, so nothing else can either.

  My eyes flick to Jackson’s. He frowns when I say, “Ty. Hi, I’m good. How are you?”

  “Good, too. Uh, I miss you.”

  Oh, Lordy. How do I answer that? Either way, I’ll get myself in trouble.

  “It’s nice to hear your voice,” I finally decide.

  “Listen, I know you probably don’t want to hear from me, with everything, but I’d really like to talk with you.”

  Instantly, my guard goes up even as longing fills me. “Why?”

  “Well, um, because I’d really like to try and work things out. I miss you.”

  I should have known it wouldn’t be as easy to let him go. He wouldn’t just walk away, regardless of what he thinks I did. I pinch the bridge of my nose to stop the headache that’s already forming.

  I flatten my tone so none of my emotions leak out. “Oh, Tyler. I’m sorry, but I don’t want to work things out.”

  Jackson glares at the phone, which isn’t helping me keep my emotions under control, but he doesn’t say anything.

  “I know, but…will you please come over anyway?”

  With a sigh, I let some of my weariness leak in when I say, “It’s not going to change anything.”

  “You don’t know that,” he says quickly but quietly. “There’s something you don’t know. I have to tell you. Please.” His voice is still soft, but there’s a hint of huskiness in it, too, when he says please.

  Damn it. I’ve never been able to resist Ty when he speaks with those honeyed tones that promise dark pleasures. He’s used it too many times when we’re alone for my body not to respond to it. I groan, even as I press the phone between my ear and shoulder, and start pulling clothes out of my drawers.

  “Tell me now,” I say, but I know I’m going to go anyway.

  “I…can’t. It needs to be done in person. Please, Lily.” His voice still holds that hint of huskiness that makes my blood turn bubbly, but it’s pleading too, and I can’t recall a time where he’s begged for me anything. He’s never had to. He used to always get exactly what he wanted from me.

  “Yeah, all right. Fine. When?”

  Jackson jumps up and shakes his head back and forth. “No,” he pleads. His eyes are filled with what I’ve seen before, but this time I recognize it for what it is. Panic. “Don’t go.”

  I frown but don’t get a chance to say anything. Tyler is already speaking. “Now? I know it’s early, but…I can’t wait to see you.”

  I let out a sigh. It’s probably best to get it over with as early as possible. That way, I can come back and spend time with Jackson without worrying about Ty. I wince at how that sounds, even in my own head.

  “Yeah. All right. I’ll get dressed and meet you at your house.”

  “Great. I lo…I’ll see you soon.” He hangs up, and I toss my phone on my bed.

  “Don’t go,” Jackson says. “Please. Something doesn’t feel right about this.”

  I have the same feeling, but it’s more because I wonder what I’ll have to do to get Ty to understand that I can’t be with him anymore. I cross over to Jackson, placing my hand on the mirror. “I have to. He needs to realize it’s over.”

  “If he doesn’t realize now, he never will.” He crosses his arms across his chest and actually pouts. It’s kind of adorable.

  “He just doesn’t understand. I’ll make it clear.”r />
  “I don’t want you to change your mind,” he says, refusing to look at me.

  Aw. So cute! “Jacks,” I say, and wait for him to peer over at me. “I’m not going to change my mind about us. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. You’re my everything.”

  And that’s the God’s honest truth. We may not have known each other for very long, but it feels like I’ve known him forever. Whatever is happening between us feels big and heavy and inevitable, but it also feels right.

  “So are you, but you hurt him the last time you saw him. I don’t trust him. He’s going to try and convince you to come back, and I’m worried about how.”

  Yeah, me too, but I don’t say that. I only say, “Jackson, he isn’t going to hurt me.”

  “You don’t know that!” he yells.

  “I know him better than I know you,” I yell back, immediately regretting it, but I don’t take it back. Instead, I glare at him.

  He searches my face and then nods, backing away from the mirror, his face that blank slate he’s fond of when he’s trying to hide his emotions. “I’ll be waiting.”

  That look has my own anger fading. “Please. Don’t be mad,” I say, but he just keeps backing up until the mirror fades, and I see only myself staring back.

  Taking a deep breath, I ring the doorbell of Ty’s house, using the time before he answers to think about how often I’ve done this in the past year. It’s depressing to realize this will probably be the last time I do this. I rub the heel of my palm against my chest, where my heart pinches.

  To my surprise, it’s Ty’s dad who opens the door. He smiles. “Hey, Lily. It’s nice to see you. Ty’s been a mess lately.”

  “Okay, Dad, thanks, but you can go now,” Ty says, trying to wrestle his dad out of the doorway.

  I wait until his dad walks away before asking, “What’s going on?”

  Ty steps forward, a small smile on his face. He takes my hand, gently tugging me into the house and then leading me to the living room. “I just want to talk to you.”

  He takes a seat on the couch and tugs on my hand until I join him. Which I do. Albeit a bit reluctantly.