by Pam Tribble
~~***~~
Friday, December 21. School was out until January 2.
Lyra and Jonah had stopped by to pick up Harry and they were all now at Jonah’s house—Harry upstairs with Jet, Lyra and Jonah down in the basement. They were sitting on the sofa and the lights were on, muting the cosmic landscape around them. The basement was colder than the rest of the house, so Lyra and Jonah were huddled close together under the afghan. They weren’t saying much. Tomorrow Jonah and Jet were to get up early and drive to the Canadian Edenvale branch. So far, they’d avoided talking about it, but now it was all either of them could think about.
Lyra sighed unhappily.
I don’t want to go.
“I know,” Lyra nodded.
I have to know once and for all what I’m capable of. I don’t ever want to hurt you.
“I know…It’s just going to be the longest two weeks of my life.” She smiled ruefully up at him.
“For me too,” Jonah murmured softly, his eyes roving her face, as though to memorize it.
Lyra held her breath. Their faces were so close. Would he kiss her?
Jonah had been keeping his guard up physically as well as emotionally these past couple of months. Other than holding hands, sitting close, and the perfunctory goodnight kiss, he’d not touched her since the night of the dance.
He seemed to know what she was thinking and his gaze dropped to her mouth. She could see the desire ignite in his eyes. He lowered his head a fraction about to give in to his want. Just as Lyra was closing her eyes, he pulled back. He turned away from her and exhaled loudly.
Lyra sighed again, and returned to staring at the opposite wall.
He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. Seeing the frustration in her expression made him grin.
She punched him in the arm. “Don’t you even smile, you sadist. Why won’t you kiss me?”
Jonah’s grin widened. “Do you want me to kiss you?” He teased.
“Hello!?! Yes, I’m dying over here.”
Jonah chuckled. “Well, I’m glad to know I’m not the only one.”
“Well?”
“Well, what happened to you being a liberated woman? You haven’t put any moves on me either.”
Lyra leaned away from him and scowled. “Some things are just supposed to be initiated by the guy. And anyway, I thought I was making it pretty obvious. If I sat any closer to you, I’d be in your lap. You know I want you too…to kiss me, I mean.”
Jonah lifted the arm she’d been leaning against, put it around her, and pulled her closer. He kissed the top of her head and began running his fingers through her hair. Lyra felt the goose bumps all the way down to her toes. She sighed and relaxed against him once more.
“So, what are you going to have to do up there? Pull a couple of semis? Run from there to Florida? Break blocks of cement with your bare hands?
“Ha ha. Very funny. Actually, I wish it were all physical. That’s the easy part of it. It’s the mental stuff that’s hard. It’s been a few years since I was there so who knows what sort of tests they’ve got for wackos like me now.”
Lyra jabbed him in the ribs. “Don’t say that. You are not a wacko or freak.”
“But what if my dad’s theories were right?” he continued more seriously. “What if I’m the descendant of a materialized demon a thousand generations back?”
Lyra detangled herself from him and the blanket until she was sitting cross-legged on the couch, facing him. His expression was guarded, but she could see fear in his eyes too. She took a deep breath. She’d been thinking about that a lot over the past several weeks, she’d even prayed about it. She knew what she wanted to say, but wasn’t sure if she could get it out right, or how Jonah would take it.
“Jonah,” she began slowly, “You’re a lot smarter than me. You’ve studied the universe much more in depth than I have. And you’ve said you believe in God. When you look out into this vast cosmic world, do you see where God has made any mistakes? Like, oops, God sure got that wrong.”
Jonah looked at her warily. She could tell he was wondering where she was going with this.
Finally, he answered, “No. We certainly don’t know everything. We don’t even understand the ‘why’ of what we think we know. But the precise tuning of our universe—earth included—is perfect. The laws of nature and physics are exact.”
“Okay then,” Lyra continued, a little more confident, “back to your question. Let’s just assume, for the sake of argument, that your father’s theory is correct and you are the descendant of a fallen angel who came to earth, materialized, and mated with human woman. And based on the opinion you just gave me that when God created the universe, He got all the big things right. Planets aren’t bumping into each other out there; earth hasn’t erupted into a ball of fire because we’re one-hundredth of a degree closer to the sun than we should be, etc, etc… Don’t you think He knew what He was doing when He created us?”
Jonah was silent.
“I mean, do you think He was really surprised when Satan and his demons rebelled and then led humans into rebellion too? Surely the One who was smart enough to bring this entire universe into existence, and who continues to hold it all together, knew ahead of time that not everyone was going to go along with His rules. After all, He created us with free will. He had to have known that some of His creatures would misuse it.
“According to the Bible—if you believe the Bible—God sent his perfect son, Jesus, to die in our place so that, if we accept him, we are redeemed from our sins and have the hope of eternal life”
Jonah continued to stare at her wordlessly.
Lyra knew that as Jonah’s father had been a preacher, he was very familiar with all that. But still, it was leading up to her point.
“So, if God doesn’t make mistakes, and if He knew ahead of time all that would happen…you, Jonah, are a part of God’s plan.” Lyra took his hands in hers and continued earnestly. She so wanted him to get this. “You are not a mistake, Jonah. You are a miracle!”
Jonah’s expression became skeptical. He regarded her for another long moment. Lyra wondered if he was working up his counter-argument.
Finally he responded. “You have a…um…very unusual way of looking at things.”
Lyra realized his hesitation had not been because he wanted to argue with her, but because he hadn’t wanted to hurt her feelings. She could tell he wasn’t buying it. Well, maybe he would think about it. She knew she couldn’t, in one conversation, undo the years of mental, emotional, and spiritual abuse Jonah had suffered at the hands of his father.
She sat up on her knees, put her arms around his neck, leaned in, and kissed gently him. “You are my miracle, Jonah Forrester.”
Jonah wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her onto his lap. He smiled down at her. “You’ve got it all wrong. You are my miracle. I had no life until the day you walked into it. I existed, but I had not lived.”
He lowered his head and kissed her. Finally, she thought.
His lips lingered on hers, their breath mingling. His lips trailed across her cheek to her ear, where he nibbled seductively. Lyra’s fingers dug into his shoulders and she pressed even closer. Jonah’s hands moved restlessly over her back as his lips grazed a fiery trail down her neck. He flicked his tongue where her pulse beat erratically and gently sucked the sensitive flesh in the hollow of her collar bone. Lyra thought she would go mad at the pleasure/pain it sent rocketing through her system.
Jonah reached around and pulled the afghan up onto her shoulders so that they were cocooned once more. Then he slid his hands under her sweater. Lyra’s breath came in little pants as he pressed his palms into her sensitive skin. His fingers inched up and her sweater bunched just below her breasts. Then he slid them around to her back, pressed her to him, and crushed his mouth to hers once more.
In a movement so fast it barely registered,
Jonah had her on her back underneath him. His body pressed into hers and his knee parted her legs. She gasped in surprise and his tongue invaded her mouth. She gloried in the feel of him, all of him, as she strained up toward him and he pressed down onto her, needing to be closer, and closer still. His hands, still under her sweater, inched up until they met the silky fabric of her bra. He stopped there, but ran his thumbs along the underwire.
Lyra was crazy with desire. Her hands found the hem of his shirt and slid beneath to touch his flushed skin. His muscles rippled under her feathery touch. She ran her hands along his sides and across the span of his wide shoulders. Tension—passion—radiated from their bodies like a force of its own. It wrapped itself around them and held them in its steely grip.
Lyra ached for something, she didn’t know what. All she knew was she couldn’t get close enough. Kissing only fueled the hunger inside her. She knew they were about to cross a line. Her mind told her they needed to stop, but her body and heart overrode reason and danced on the edge of that forbidden boundary.
Finally, Jonah tore his mouth from hers. He stared at her, unseeing, his eyes glazed with passion. They were both completely out of breath and it was several long moments before their breathing and heart rates returned to normal…or close to normal anyway.
Jonah tried to speak, couldn’t, cleared his throat, and tried again. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I got so carried away. I’m really, really sorry, Lyra.”
He tried to lift himself off of her, but Lyra tightened her arms around his back. “Please don’t move. Just don’t.”
Jonah relaxed and, after a moment, scooted her over and shifted them onto their sides facing each other. He pulled the blanket up over them, which had gotten tangled around and between their bodies. He searched her face, but could find no accusation there.
“I didn’t want you to stop,” Lyra whispered, laying her head on his bicep.
Lyra.
“I still don’t.”
“Don’t tell me that. My self-control is still just hanging on by a thread,” he answered gruffly.
“Sorry.”
“You make me feel things, want things…things I have no right to feel or want.”
“I want them too,” she admitted.
“But I don’t want to be that guy.”
“What guy?”
“A user. Someone who has no respect for girls. You are too special, too perfect. You are innocent and beautiful and the last thing I want to do is ruin that.”
“Jonah, you could never be that guy.” She traced the lines of his face tenderly.
“I very nearly was,” he answered in an agonized voice. “You deserve better. A hell of a lot better than me.”
Lyra shook her head. “Even if…that…had happened, it wouldn’t be because you used me. I know you better than that, Jonah. Things just got a little out of hand, that’s all. And, well, it wasn’t like I was pushing you away.”
Jonah swallowed visibly and shut his eyes for a moment.
Lyra blushed in embarrassment hoping he wasn’t remembering just what she had been doing. “You’re right, though,” she continued, wanting to get past the awkward moment. “That is something very special, sacred even. Not to be rushed into in the, um, heat of the moment.” She flushed scarlet again. So much for getting past the embarrassing part.
In unspoken agreement, they dropped the subject. However, acutely aware of their limited time together and fear of what the future held, they stayed on the sofa, snuggled close under the warmth of the afghan until Jet called down the stairs for them to come eat.
Jonah drove her home around ten. He walked her to her door and kissed her briefly on the lips. When he stepped back, she smiled at him ruefully.
“Am I being punished for earlier?”
He chuckled. “No, but I don’t want a repeat here on your doorstep. Your parents would chase me away with butcher knives.”
She smiled, then sobered. “I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too.”
She grabbed fistfuls of his jacket and looked stern. “Promise me you’ll come back.”
“I want to,” Jonah answered earnestly. “But I have to do what’s best for…everyone. If I am a danger to others, if I lose control when I’m too angry or upset or … excited,” he looked at her bleakly, “I can’t come back. What happened to Kyle is nothing compared to what could happen.”
Lyra didn’t want to get into another argument about Kyle. Jonah was convinced he’d used too much force, and nothing Lyra said could change his mind.
“Will you call me?”
Jonah shook his head.
Lyra tried to conceal her disappointment. “Will you text me?” Even she could hear the whine in her voice.
Jonah’s brow wrinkled. “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but when I leave tomorrow and especially after I get to Edenvale, I want to be totally focused on the tests. If I’m thinking about you…well, I will be thinking about you…but if we are calling or texting back and forth, it’ll just mess with my concentration. I really need to give this my full attention.”
Lyra nodded. She understood. But that didn’t stop the lump from rising in her throat at the thought of not seeing or speaking to him for two whole weeks—especially on Christmas.
She looked at the ground, trying to blink away the sudden moisture in her eyes before it spilled over.
Jonah stepped closer and lifted her chin. The traitorous tears slid down her face.
He caught them with his thumbs, then cupped her face. “I love you. I will always love you. The past couple of months have been the best of my entire life. I will never forget you, no matter what happens.”
Lyra couldn’t speak. She just closed her eyes to the pain of possibly losing him forever. She felt his warm lips on hers once more and then he was gone.
