Entangled Summer

by Barrow-Belisle, Michele

  I nodded quickly. “I know, it’s just...” Just what, I laughed to myself, just that a guy in a dream hit me and blamed you for taking his imaginary life night after night. Cause that doesn't sound crazy at all. “I guess I didn’t like knowing she was the girl you dreamed about night after night.” I stared at the floor, kind of hoping it would open up and swallow me whole. How had I been reduced to this insecure, needy, jealous wreck? In spite of everything, I was acutely aware of how intimately entangled we’d become. Our ten week relationship had the depth and seriousness of years.

  “Hey,” he lifted my chin gently, forcing me to meet his gaze. “I have never. Ever. Felt more connected to anyone than I do with you. Celeste was never the girl of my dreams. That was the problem—she wasn’t you.”

  I frowned a little. “You mean—”

  “I mean I’ve been dreaming of you for years Nora. It’s like I’ve known you long before we met. And I couldn’t marry her because I knew I had to find you.” He leaned in peering deep into my eyes as my heart beat faster in my chest. His hands shifted to my shoulders and he pulled me close.

  “Do you hear me Nora?” he said, giving me a slight shake.

  “It. Was. You.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Letting stuff go. That was fast becoming my summer theme. I was getting a lot of practice in the art of letting it go. Which is why Troy and I seemed to always find our way back to one another. We were thrown together every day in some way or another, either working side by side on projects or teaching classes. Or in the evening by the campfire, or sequestered in his cabin. Communication was unavoidable, since he refused to let things like insecurities, emotions and misunderstandings come between us. I was growing comfortable sharing more and more of myself with him. We’d settled into our discreet relationship, even if neither of us knew where it would lead, if anywhere, beyond the forest walls of Wanderlust.

  As we made our way back to my cabin early this morning, Troy leaned in to kiss me. His lips pressed to mine, soft yet firm, yielding yet relentless. We pulled apart a for a split second, to make sure we weren’t seen. Then he dipped his head, his hands in my hair, to draw my mouth back to his— but he stopped short.

  A young girl from the junior camp program stopped in front of us. It was rare to see anyone out this early on a weekend morning. We froze, like two teenagers caught making out. I was doing the walk of shame, without the benefit of the shame part.

  I peered down at the young girl. She was barefoot and still in her pj's.

  "What are you doing out so early Hannah?" Troy asked. He knew every kid here by name, and there were a lot of them.

  She rubbed her eyes. "Couldn't sleep."

  I could relate. Once again I was reminded of the good work this school really did for these children. They were safe here, at least from the external sufferings that had caused their nightmares to begin with. The rest would hopefully get sorted out in time.

  Her eyes shifted back and forth between us. "Are you two in love?"

  "Depends what you mean by in love." I answered without missing a beat.

  Troy’s brows furrowed as he glanced at me sideways.

  "Do you mean in love in general, like with other people, or in love specifically with each other? Because the answer would be different for each question." I said. One thing I'd learned about children was they were easily derailed from their original train thought.

  She frowned wrinkling her little nose then looked up at Troy. “Have you been together all night?” she asked, head tilted to the side.

  Clearly, she wasn't like most children. I arched a brow and gave Troy a pointed look that said you're up.

  He cleared his throat. "No. We're old friends. We go way back. Right Nora."

  I nodded vigorously. "Oh yeah. Way back."

  The girl studied us a moment longer, then her face brightened. "Okay good. Then you should meet my big brother cause he needs a new girlfriend."

  Troy snickered and I elbowed him in the ribs. I leaned down. "Is that right? And how old is your brother?" I asked, noticing that Troy was no longer laughing—and enjoying that fact.

  "He's thirteen."

  Straightening, I nodded. "I see. And what's wrong with the girlfriend he has now?"

  “She smells weird. And you always smell nice."

  I had to smile. "Thanks Hannah. But I'm afraid I’m too old for your brother. Don't worry though, he'll probably get tired of her smell soon enough and find himself a new girlfriend. A nice smelling one.” I shrugged. “Maybe one that smells like, roses."

  Hannah beamed. "You think? I hope so." she said, and then shuffled back toward her cabin.

  Troy pulled me to his side in another rare, out-in-the-open display that caught me off guard. "So you're considering invitations from other men?”

  "Boys," I corrected him. "And hey, a girl’s gotta keep her options open, until she's spoken for, doesn't she."

  "No. This girl doesn't. Cause this girl is as spoken for as they come.” His arms threaded around my waist, holding me close.

  I laughed, and wriggled my fingers. "If you want it, then you shudda put a ring on it."

  His expression became serious. "One day. I will. But not until—”

  Voices in the distance made him drop his arm and put a little daylight between us the rest of the way to his office.

  More than anything I wanted to know what the next words out of his mouth were going to be. But I didn't ask, because the words that had come out of his mouth terrified me, just a little.

  ***

  “I’m bored.”

  We’d been in Troy’s atrium office for ages. What was supposed to be a five minute stop had turned into almost an hour.

  “Why don't we just meet up later, when you’re done?” I sat at the edge of the pond, which was more like a miniature indoor pool, made to look like a pond.

  “No, I’m almost finished,” he said. “And this is your class I’m adding to the curriculum. I don’t know anything about polymer clay sculpting. It’s all on you babe. If you’re going to be teaching it here next summer, you need to tell me what to add.”

  “Fine,” I sighed. Next summer seemed like forever away, did we have to do this now? I appreciated his enthusiasm, and knowing we’d get to spend time together a year from now was great, but it was cutting into our day together. We only had one day off, when we could hide out at his place together undetected. Every other day, working or not, one of us, usually him, would be missed. And if both of us were missed at the same time on too many occasions, well, let’s just say the rumors would fly, and the board would get an earful.

  I’d already come up with a description, course load and supply list and that only took seven minutes. The rest was him fighting a losing battle with technology, cursing his beloved Macbook every five minutes.

  I flipped through another one of his science books. “What is it with you and this quantum stuff?” I asked, clapping it shut.

  “You must have heard of the entanglement theory?”

  I squinted at him. “Entanglement theory? Never heard of it. Enlighten me.”

  “It’s when two or more objects are described with reference to each other, even though the individual objects may be spatially separated. This leads to correlations between observable physical properties of the systems that are stronger than any classical correlations,” he said.

  “Yeah, enlighten me in English please.”

  He smiled. “Okay, loosely it implies we’re connected by an invisible thread that binds us to another even in the unseen. Through time and space and dimensions.”

  “So hypothetically, you’re saying we’re bound to our dreams?”

  “If you consider the theory that dreams aren’t actually dreams at all, but memories of some other time, or place— then sure, it could apply.”

  “It’s too bizarre to consider.” Considering it, was all I’d done since my first meeting with Grace, when she’d pretty much said the same thing without all the fan
cy lingo. Implying that Darcy could walk into my life at any time. I just never thought that when he did he’d be a threat.

  “You're basically talking about bending reality.”

  “I'm not the first. There’s been lots written on the subject.”

  I dropped the book on his desk. “Yes, I noticed the bookcase. Why doesn't everyone have these experiences with their dreams?”

  He looked at me for a stretch, and I could tell he was working out how much to tell me. “They’re most often triggered by a trauma. Something the subconscious mind needs to escape from.”

  I thought about the school and how some of the people here were selected. It was upsetting to know that the camp was full of children who could be suffering. Kenzie's assessment, as usual, couldn't have been further from the truth. They weren't spoiled children living a pampered life at a posh art camp. They were amazingly gifted children who desperately needed saving.

  Suddenly my job had importance. That part Kenzie had gotten right. I did have a purpose. I understood what they were going through. And while I didn't remember my own trauma, I could relate to them a whole lot more because of it.

  I slid my chair next to his. “It’s funny. You don't look the nerdy geek type and yet here you are in your office talking nuclear physics on your day off.”

  “Quantum physics.”

  “Whatever.” I shrugged. I stretched my bare legs across his thighs. "I do find it incredibly sexy when you get all left-brain sciency on me. Even if I don't understand most of what you're saying."

  "Really." He let his finger stroll up my leg raising a million little chills in its wake. "Well there’s a lot more I could show you about quantum entanglement."

  "Mm-hm, I have a request."

  He licked his lips, his eyes warming. "Anything."

  I scooted onto his lap. "Shut up and kiss me."

  "Like I said..." He leaned in. "Anything."

  His lips pressed to mine and in seconds we were lost in each other, drowning in desire.

  “You know, if you keep distracting me I’ll never finish.” He said easing back.

  I hopped off his lap and wandered around the atrium with the patience of a kid on sugar at Christmas. I spied a bag of super-soakers in the corner, and pulled out the one with the biggest tank. “This is way too much temptation.” I mumbled.

  “That’s what I think every time I look at you.” He said without looking up.

  I circled his desk restlessly. “You know talk like that is gonna make me fall in love with you Troy Bellisaro.” I said in my best southern accent.

  Still, he ignored me.

  “How much longer?”

  “Relax, I’m almost done.—Annnnd there.” He shut the laptop. “Course change added and approved.”

  I beamed. “You’ll see. Polymer is a killer medium.”

  “If you’re teaching it, I’m sure that will be true.” He rose, but bent down to make notes in his agenda.

  I shouldered the water-gun, sheriff-style, and picked up a hand-painted plaque on his desk. “Be yourself. Wow. Pithy,” I mocked. “If I were being me, I’d show you the business end of this super soaker.”

  “You being you is the most sexy thing imaginable.” He said.

  “You sure about that?” I slid the gun off my back, it was heavy and fully loaded with water.

  His smile dimmed. “Don’t do it Nora. Put down the weapon and nobody gets hurt.”

  “Not a chance puppet boy.”

  “You need to stop calling me that.” He warned, stepping toward me.

  I aimed the gun, flashing a defiant smirk. “Make me.”

  He took another step closer. “You know, I could just put you in the pond, you know that right.”

  He could totally throw me in, with just one arm even, so I preempted his strike.

  “Let’s see what you’ve got puppet boy.” I jumped into the pond and then drilled him with my water gun.

  By the time I was on empty, his shirt, hair and agenda were soaked.

  “Whoops.” I shrugged. “Sorry. The book wasn’t supposed to be a casualty.”

  “Oh, you’re so going to pay for that one.” He dove into the water, drenching me as his tidal wave crashed over my head.

  “Hey,” I sputtered. “That was just mean.”

  “All’s fair in love and war babe.” He tackled me, pulling me under the water with him. We were entwined, arms, legs and before long lips, until we came up for air.

  “This is something I’ve wanted forever. A water-gun fight with a worthy opponent. Especially one that looks this good wet.” He said with a sexy grin.

  He reached for me, but I jumped up and pushed his head under the water.

  When he resurfaced he lifted me into the air, my clothes and hair plastered to my skin. He slid me down the length of his torso, his smile fading as my face lined up with his.

  “God you’re beautiful,” he said.

  Before I could answer, his hand cradled the back of my head, drawing my mouth to his.

  When we pulled apart, I wanted to whine in protest. Instead I splashed him and then waded to the other side of the pond.

  He stepped toward me. "You really need to get out of those wet clothes." he said, prowling forward.

  My tummy clenched. "You first." I challenged.

  Eyes trained on me, he reached behind his head and gathered a fistful of wet shirt. In one tug he pulled it over his head, and tossed it onto the ground with a smack.

  My eyes skimmed over his chest and washboard abs. Holy hotness. How many sit ups did one have to do to get abs like that? An invisible place tightened in my chest. His chest seemed more flawless now than I remembered, with all those hard planes…the dips of his stomach… I devoured every chiseledmuscle, and the way his dark jeans hung low on his hips revealing the black waistband of his underwear. I swallowed hard.

  “Your turn,” he said, giving me a provocative grin.

  I resisted the overpowering urge I had to move in and trail my fingers over his tattoo, which snaked from his shoulder down to his elbow. And a mighty fine looking elbow it was. There was something written along the top, a script I hadn't noticed. I squinted, wanting to read it without drooling all over him. Cause while the concept seemed hot, actual drool just wasn't.

  “Are you going to stay all the way over there?” He asked.

  We were only a ten feet apart, but it felt like miles. I scratched my forehead and inched a few steps toward him. His lips curled up in the corner, and he crooked his finger. “That's it. A little closer.”

  I took another few tentative steps. How could I be ready to bolt and want to launch into his abs all at the same time?

  “Not gonna bite you Nora. Unless you want me to.”

  He flashed a sexy grin.

  Oh man did I want him to. I think I hurried the rest of the way over to him, to keep from passing out from the lack of oxygen in my brain. It was being diffused to other places at the moment. The overwhelming sensations put me a little on edge and I stiffened in his arms. A nervous laugh escaped my lips.

  Troy dipped his head. “Is this scaring you Nora? he said quietly. “You and me?”

  “No,” I croaked. I cleared my throat. “Not anymore. I’m only… afraid of what I want.”

  “And what do you want?”

  You. More than I want water, or oxygen or blood in my veins. My throat tightened. I couldn’t say the words, so I pushed myself closer against him, and reached down to hem of my tank-top.

  He nodded, his smile slightly fading. He inched back—lifted his eyes to mine and held them.

  I was still struggling to get my shirt off.

  “Here, let me help you.” One thin strap of my tank top fell silently off my shoulder as his fingers gently coaxed the wet fabric away from my skin. A shiver raced through me despite the warmth of him and the waist-deep water. Tiny thrill bumps broke out over my skin and everything tightened inside me.

  Another whisper-touch of his fingers against the curve of my s
houlder. More shivers as the other strap fell. Then with a quick tug, he pulled the pink fabric up over my head and tossed it on the ground next to his.

  His gazed roamed over me appreciatively as hands settled around my rib cage. “See,” he rasped. “Not so bad.”

  Oh so good

  Standing there in my wet bra and shorts, I felt completely naked. More naked than I felt when I'd actually been naked with him. Because this time I felt emotionally bare.

  The first time it was spontaneous. A frenetic rush of passion and we gave in to temptation. This time was different. We both knew exactly what was about to happen. And we exchanged a long intense look. This time, I was ready.

  His fingers skimmed across my stomach and I sucked in a breath. The sensitive skin quivered under his warm touch. The ache in my chest tightened, the longer I held my breath, but I couldn’t make my lungs function. The coordination of drawing in air was temporarily lost, as his palms rested on my sides, below the edge of my bra. A million tiny tingles raced across my skin.

  His lips found mine again, in a tangled fusion of lips and tongues that I prayed would never end. Hands knotted in my hair and I arched into him, needing to be impossibly closer.

  We were still kissing half-naked in the pond, when Grace came in.

  She cleared her throat and immediately, we pulled apart. I darted behind Troy. So much for discretion.

  “A little late for that Miss Dultry,” she said in her usual haughty tone.

  I poked my head out.

  “Hi Grace.”

  “Something I can help you with?” Troy, waded to the edge of the pond and hopped out.

  “That situation you asked me to monitor, has escalated,” she said. Her gaze shifted briefly to me as I tried unsuccessfully to climb out while partially shielding myself with one arm. Troy offered me his hand and pulled me to dry land, where I proceeded to stand like an idiot dripping a puddle on the tiles around me.

  “Thanks Grace. I’ll look into it,” he said.

  I caught her disapproving stare once more as I was wringing out the ends of my hair. She made a face, turned on her heel and left.