“No, she’s great,” Emma said. “If you loved someone like her, I must be pretty great too.” She said it quietly, like she wasn’t quite certain about the whole thing.
“Your lack of self-confidence is still astounding, Em,” I said, holding her to me. I wished I didn’t know why her self-esteem was wavering a little above zero, but I did.
“I’m working on it,” she replied, playing with the hem of her dress.
It was one of those moments, one of the many we’d be faced with in the future, where I was a ball of emotions, not sure if I wanted to cry or punch a hole in something. “Well, you are amazing,” I said, taking a breath. “And I know you don’t believe it, but I know it and I’m a superb judge of character.”
She smiled. “You should be,” she said. “You’ve only been around since the 1700s.”
“Man,” I said through a cringe, “you even know my age. Did Blabber Mouth Bryn tell you everything?” In a way, I hoped she had because if Emma was still here, able to profess love to me knowing everything there was to know, we were going to make it.
“Not everything, but the basics, I guess,” she said. “I have some questions I only want answered by you.”
“Well, here I am, all yours for the questioning,” I said, hooking an arm around her, “until rise and shine at cell nine-three-two in seven hours.”
I could see the flood of questions waiting to rush from her, but something blocked them.
“Come on. Any question you have and any answer I give won’t change the way I feel about you and hopefully the way you feel about me, right?”
She nodded and then rolled her shoulders back. “So you can teleport?” The term was like foreign word on her tongue. She couldn’t quite say it right or with confidence.
“Yes,” I answered, wondering if I should give her a personal demonstration, but decided against that. Talking about teleportation in theory was surely easier to swallow than giving a live demonstration.
“And that’s how you were at Stanford that night?”
I nodded once, working a muscle in my jaw. The memory made me tense.
“And someone was following me?”
I didn’t want to confess that something supernatural and evil was stalking Emma that night, but I couldn’t lie to her about it either. “Yes,” I answered, looking her in the eye.
There was one moment where fear flashed into her eyes, and then it was gone. “Who?”
“I’m not exactly sure,” I said, feeling my fists balling, my body tensing, everything ready and needing to destroy something. “But I will find out, Em. I promise you, and when I do…”—how could I put this gently?—”there’s going to be hell to pay.” That might be a simplification of everything I would do to whoever was responsible for that night, but it summed up my general intent.
Emma considered this for a moment, the skin between her brows lining. Tucking her chin over her knees, she glanced over at me. “So you come see me every night?”
I cursed under my breath. A legendary dose of payback—Patrick Hayward style—was in order for squealing about that one to Emma. “Should I even try to deny it?” I muttered.
“No,” she said, the corners of her mouth pulling up. “I think it’s romantic. You teleporting out of prison to stare at your sleeping girlfriend.” I shot a brow up, and her grin pulled higher. “In a weird, kind of creepy, romantic way.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I said. “Keep it coming. I guarantee you can’t throw anything at me my family hasn’t already.”
She laughed, so I knew I was in the clear. “I’ll have to make sure I stop going to bed naked from now on.” She gave me a coy smile, her cheeks reddening just barely.
“No need to break time-honored and boyfriend approved habits on my account,” I said, heat flashing through my veins just thinking about Emma sleeping naked. “Besides, I’ve heard it’s important to let your skin air out at night. So you might want to lose those sheets and comforter too.”
Shaking her head, she elbowed me. “What am I going to do with you?”
God, I loved that question. “Sleep naked tomorrow night and I’ll gladly show you.”
This one earned me a two handed shove and a two second sigh.
After our laughter dimmed, her face flattened as she stared at the lake. “You’ll never grow old.”
It sounded like more of a statement than a question, so I replied by scooting behind her and wrapping both arms tight around her.
“You’ll never die.”
I tucked my chin over her shoulder, pressing my chest as hard as I could against her back, trying to let nothing come between us.
“What kind of a future do you envision for us, Patrick?”
This was a question, a sad one. I tried to never ask myself this because it always dead ended with Emma’s aging body failing one day while mine continued on until the end of time. It was, perhaps, the saddest question ever asked.
I replied with a favored tactic of mine. Answer a question with another question. “What kind of a future do you want?”
“One with you,” she answered instantly, her fingers winding around my wrists, binding me to her.
“I can manage that,” I said.
A few moments of silence passed where I could only imagine what she was thinking. “How can this work?” she asked, her voice quiet.
“Because I want it to,” I answered, forcing myself to sound strong. “I’ll do anything to make us work, Em, and I’m the most stubborn, determined guy you’ll ever meet.”
Again, the silence, but this time I knew what she was thinking, because it was the same thing I was. No matter how much determination I had, I couldn’t stop time, and no matter how stubborn I was, I couldn’t keep death from finding Emma’s Mortal form one day. She could have a lifetime with me, but I wouldn’t have the same. That should bother me more than it did her, but I got the distinct feeling that this was what bothered her the most about everything. Leaving me behind, assuming she’d be nothing more than a chapter in a never ending story.
What she failed to realize is that she’d become my story. My life before her was just a flat prologue and my life after would be dismal epilogue.
“We better get back,” she said at last, twisting out of my arms to stand.
“Em,” I said, popping up beside her. I didn’t want to leave anything unsaid between us.
“No, Patrick,” she said, facing me. “I need some time to just think. To process, okay?”
How much time? What specifically did she need to process? Did she want me to help? These were several of the many questions that exploded to mind, but I shoved them down and answered, “Okay.”
CHAPTER SIX
The voices and shouts and laughter flowed from William and Bryn’s house as Emma and I made our way up the stone walkway. Against every instinct and every urge, I managed to keep silent and give Emma the space and silence she’d requested.
As I discovered, when willpower fails you, a sharp biting of your tongue works rather effectively.
I couldn’t imagine what Emma was thinking, I couldn’t even imagine what she was feeling, I just wanted to say or do something that would make all of this all right with her.
“Doing all right over there?” I asked, grabbing her hand as we headed up the porch.
“All right over here,” she answered, smiling over at me. “Besides, the heavy stuff’s out of the way now, right?”
“Absolutely,” I replied, when I should have said mostly. When it came to the world of Immortality, you were never “out” of the heavy stuff.
“Dessert, coffee, family,” she listed as I swung the door open. “Easy, right?”
“Right,” I said as we stepped into William and Bryn’s living room, realizing I’d forgotten to knock on wood.
Six sets of eyes focused on us as the whole room went silent. Nothing but the sounds of wood popping in the fireplace and the espresso machine hissing in the kitchen. So much for being in the
“heavy” clear. Every face, whether focused on me with looks of please-don’t-tell-me-you-screwed-this-up, or on her with sympathetic eyes, screamed “heavy.”
Emma slid a little closer, the silence and stares making her uneasy.
Scrambling for the perfect ice breaker, or any ice breaker, Bryn stood up, gliding towards us. “So you didn’t go running for the hills?” she asked Emma, giving me a devious smile.
Emma relaxed, nudging me. “Not this time.”
Lifting a shoulder, Bryn grabbed Emma’s hand. “There’s always a next time,” she said, steering her into the kitchen. “You look like you need a good cup of coffee.”
I watched in wonder as Emma and Bryn flitted about the kitchen, grabbing cream from the fridge, a spoon from the drawer, engaged in conversation like they’d known each other since they’d been in diapers. Seeing the two of them laughing as they made jabs about me, everything felt oddly copacetic.
“So,” Joseph said, lifting a brow, “how did she take it?”
Throwing myself down on a chair, I kicked off my shoes. “Better than she could have,” I said, grabbing a stack of peanut butter cookies from the tray. “Not as well as I would have hoped.”
“Where does that leave the two of you?” William asked, scooting to the edge of the couch.
My least favorite place to be. “Limbo land, brother,” I answered, dropping the cookies back on the tray. “She could just as soon leave me tomorrow as she could stay right now, you know?” I said, staring at her in the kitchen as she sipped her coffee. “I can’t lose that girl,” I said, mostly to myself because I couldn’t. If I lost Emma, I’d lose myself—that’s what love had reduced me to.
William nodded his understanding, regarding me with eyes that knew all too well what I was going through.
Nathanial rose from the arm chair, already mid-stretch and yawn. “Night, youngsters,” he said, waving at Abby finishing her cup of coffee with the girls in the kitchen. “As reigning oldest one of the bunch, I’m going to bed.”
Joseph whined his protest.
“Let him be,” I said, giving those peanut butter cookies a second thought. “Cranky-pants needs a nap.”
Nathanial scowled at me in passing, smacking the backside of my head. “And smarty-pants needs an ass whooping.”
“I guess Cora and I are outta here too,” Joseph said, popping up. “We’ll leave the newlyweds and lovebirds”—he bounced his eyebrows my direction—”to their devices.”
Snatching a cookie, I sailed it at his head and he caught in his mouth. “Have fun with your device,” I implied as he crunched around the cookie.
Cora popped into the room just then, carrying her purse.
“My wife always does,” he said, winking at me as he pulled Cora under his arm.
She rolled her eyes, shoving at him lightheartedly. “You’ll be having fun with your own device tonight if you keep up that cocky attitude,” she said, accusing me with her eyes. “You’ve been spending too much time around Patrick.”
I blew Cora an air kiss as they followed behind Nathanial and Abby. Two couples down, one more to go.
Bryn and Emma weaved into the room, their eyes bouncing between William and me. Bryn’s landed on me, her face forming into a knowing smirk when she saw what I guessed was unbridled anticipation on my face.
“Time for bed, husband of mine,” she said, nodding her head up the stairs at William.
The man sprung off the couch and was across the room in Immortal world record setting time.
Walking over to the coat closet, Bryn pulled out a few things from the top shelf. Turning around, her grin took up half her face. Only after she’d walked across the room and dropped the items in my lap did I understand the reason for the smile.
“You’ve got the couch, Hayward,” she said, with a wink.
I punched the pillow and blanket for good measure.
“You guys have like five bedrooms in this palace,” I said, watching Emma. She was trying to fight a smile. “Why do I get the couch? I always get the couch.”
William, like Bryn, wasn’t trying to hide his smile. “Because all of our bedrooms are on the second floor. Where Emma is sleeping. You need at least a floor between the two of you if you’re going to sleep under my roof.”
My mouth fell open. This coming from the guy who broke just about every rule of our kind to be with the woman he loved?
“Are you guys kidding me?” I said, throwing the pillow and blanket on the ground. “You two crawled into each other’s beds every chance you got.”
Bryn and William looked at each other, their smiles growing. Bryn cleared her throat before looking back at me. “And you made that so incredibly easy for us every chance you got, right?”
Ah, so that’s what this was about. Payback. I’d given them a hard time at every turn and this was a little tit for tat.
“Pleasant dreams,” William said, choking on a laugh before he hauled Bryn up the stairs.
I grumbled something after them.
Emma’s smile had dimmed, but she still looked way too amused. There was nothing amusing about being told, on the first night I actually could, I wasn’t “allowed” to spoon, suck face, and sleep until sunrise with my girl.
“You look too happy given the circumstances,” I grumbled as Emma walked over. “I am pretty happy given the circumstances,” she said, stopping in front of me. “I get to spend a whole night with my boyfriend and his family.”
“Not the whole night,” I said under my breath.
She laughed a few notes before leaning over and dropping a kiss into my temple. “Good night, Patrick.”
“It could be a helluva lot better than good if I wasn’t on couch patrol,” I said, watching her head up the stairs. The sway of her hips, the way her hair moved, it was like I was already dreaming. “Love you, Em.”
“Love you, couch cop,” she called back, her voice light.
The world no longer made sense. Everyone but me had turned into a regular smartass. I had officially become the butt of all jokes.
Kicking my shoes off, I stood up and started unbuttoning my shirt, resigned to the fact I’d be surfing the sofa—alone—all night long. Pulling my arms out of the sleeves, I tossed the shirt on the floor, unbuttoned my pants, lowered the fly, and dropped them.
I snatched the pillow and blanket and threw them on the couch. Hitching my hands on my hips, standing in the living room in nothing more than a pair of boxers and a scowl, I stared at those stairs longingly. One floor, one hall, and one door were all that separated me from heaven.
I took one step towards the stairs, then one more. My heart was about to explode out of my damn chest, just from being two feet closer to her. I knew I was one second away from sprinting up those stairs and knocking down every door until I found her, so I made myself take a step back towards the couch. Not because I actually thought William and Bryn cared if Emma and I shared the same room and bed, but because maybe that’s what she wanted.
Maybe, after everything she’d learned today, she needed that privacy and separation from me. I had to force myself to take another step back because those stairs tempted me. No, they beckoned me. Damn, even the stairs were aligning against me.
Wrapping my arms around my head, I let out a stream of curses through my teeth, venting my frustration.
“Holy hell,” a voice whispered in front of me.
My eyes snapped open. A smile hitched its way into position one second later.
“Em,” I whispered, appraising her on the bottom stair, staring at everything but my eyes. “You minx, you.”
She stayed silent, frozen in place, that dazed expression on her face, her eyes sweeping over me like pin balls.
Damn, my smile couldn’t pull any higher without it hurting. “Enjoying the view?” I asked, stretching my arms above me, giving her a free show.
“Holy hell,” she repeated, her eyes watching my stomach muscles move before they shifted a few inches sout
h. She swallowed, pulling her lower lip into her mouth. “Why are you in your underwear?” she whispered, her voice high.
I looked her over in her tank and pajama shorts, that alabaster skin gleaming in the dark. “Why aren’t you?” I asked, raising a brow, feeling an instant bolt of heat when I pictured it.
“Because then we’d be in trouble,” she answered, stepping down from the last stair and crossing the space between us. “Big trouble.”
And now, thanks to that look on her face and the way her body moved towards me, I was having a tough time coming up with a coherent response. I shook my head, prying a response from my mind. “I happen to be a big fan of big trouble.”
“That so?” she said, stopping in front of me.
I nodded, feeling my throat go dry.
Pressing her body into mine, her hands weaved around my neck. Lord, my knees might have just wobbled. Her mouth moved towards mine until I could feel her breath breaking against my jaw.
“Me too,” she breathed before sucking my lower lip into her warm mouth.
Okay, that was definitely a wobble. In fact, I couldn’t do this standing up. Grabbing her waist, I lifted her up and walked backwards until my legs rammed into the couch. Emma’s mouth continued to pulse over my lip, her thighs clenching my waist.
And I thought my heart was going to explode out of my chest a minute ago.
Holding her tight to me, I dropped down onto the sofa.
I loved this damn sofa.
Emma showed mercy and let go of my lower lip, leaning back to study my face. Whatever she saw on it made her smile. It also made her eyes go a little lidded. Lifting herself above my lap, she readjusted herself, wrapping her fingers around the peaks of my arms.
Lowering herself over me, she slid down a spot that had my head rolling back over the couch. My hands grabbed her hips, squeezing them as hard as I could without leaving marks. The last thing I was capable of doing right now while her body moved against me like that was control. But it was also the first thing I had to have on my mind when we were together like this.
Fusion (The Patrick Chronicles) Page 8
