Touched (Sense Thieves)

by Corrine Jackson

  Flushed with exhilaration, I didn’t think to reinforce my defenses. When I glanced sideways, Asher stood not ten feet away in the team box, suited in full hockey gear minus the helmet, his brown hair gleaming with sweat from the warm up. Only a sheet of Plexiglas separated us as he leaned against the boards, and his eyes crinkled at the corners in amusement. He must have known my walls were down the entire time he stood there.

  I grinned, including him in my delight, and nodded my thanks for not killing my buzz.

  His lips tilted at the corners as he nodded back to acknowledge my gratitude.

  My eyes caught on his scar, and I wondered what it would feel like to trace my fingers across it. My thoughts spun out in a dozen different possibilities.

  “Remy!”

  I looked around in confusion. Judging by the stares my friends gave me, Lucy had called my name more than once.

  Susan shot a glance at Asher’s back as he jumped the wall and hit the ice skating. “What was that, Remy?”

  “Nothing. Just saying hi.”

  Greg’s deep laugh boomed out. “That smile didn’t say hi. It said hello.”

  I rolled my eyes while the others laughed.

  Brandon snorted. “Yeah, you never smile like that when you say hi to me.”

  I gave him a clownish grin. “How’s that?”

  “Give it up, Sis. Greg started a wager on how much longer the two of you will keep pretending to ignore each other,” Lucy said.

  My head whipped around to stare at Greg. “You idiot. Who would bet on something like that?”

  Everyone had a sudden preoccupation with looking anywhere but at me.

  “Lucy!” I accused.

  She laughed without apology. “If you cave by the end of the night, I win twenty bucks. I don’t suppose you’d want to split a twenty with your favorite sister?”

  Greg shoved her arm. “Hey, no fixing the odds.”

  “Put me down for ten for never,” I said, with more confidence than I felt.

  Susan wagged a finger at me. “Never bet money on a losing game. I’d say your days are numbered.”

  I shook my head in mute denial.

  Four heads nodded back at me.

  “Oh, shut up,” I muttered and stalked off to get a hot chocolate with their chuckles ringing in my ears.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Asher had arrived at the same conclusion as my friends.

  After watching our team demolish our opponents with a humiliating 8-0 spread, my friends and I headed to Rosy’s, a retro fifties diner, for a celebratory meal. Returning to our table after placing an order at the walk-up counter, I felt a tug on the end of the crimson and pink-striped knit scarf wrapped around my neck. Asher walked away with my scarf wrapped around his hand, and I rushed after him to avoid strangulation. Admiring the muscles shifting in his back as he towed me to an empty table and pulled out a plastic chair for me was a bonus. His stubborn expression made it clear I could sit or be seated, but I paused as long as I dared before complying.

  He sat across from me, not his usual superior and amused self. In the last couple weeks, I’d learned he could be charming—a favorite with the puck bunnies and the teachers. I’d thought Asher basked in their adoration, but lately I was convinced there was more to him. For all his admirers, he seemed lonely. This speechless Asher was new.

  A waitress slammed a soda and a basket containing my cheeseburger and fries on the table. I popped a fry in my mouth while I stared, fascinated, and waiting to see what Asher would do next.

  One hand shoved through his hair, and he said, “So, here’s the thing . . .”

  I wondered if his frustration meant his control could slip. My own ability felt tied to my emotions at times, so I reinforced my mental barricade to be safe.

  With a groan, he rolled his eyes, his hair a gorgeous mess from his impatient hand. “Could you stop that, please?”

  “Stop what?” I asked, in confusion.

  “The wall thing. It’s distracting the way you’re always raising and lowering it. Keep it up, and we’ll both be okay.”

  “Shh!” I looked both ways to ensure our conversation remained private. “Keep your voice down, okay?”

  Despite my irritation, I couldn’t deny any longer that I was drawn to him. I yearned to know what he knew about my abilities and why he didn’t seem to think me a freak for having them. And then there were his talents and my desire to know more about why he was constantly testing my walls.

  “We need to talk. I wish we had more privacy, but . . .” He indicated someone behind me.

  When I shifted in my seat to see whom he’d gestured to, five sets of inquisitive eyes stared at me, waiting for me to call their bet. I waved at Lucy and nodded once in answer to her silent question. She punched a fist in the air and turned to a disgruntled Greg with her palm up and a smug smile. Susan gave a loud whoop as he pulled out his wallet to pay off the bet.

  Asher watched the whole thing with bemusement, while I dumped ketchup on my fries.

  “You owe me ten bucks.” I chewed a fry with slow deliberation. “Although, to be fair, Lucy did offer to split the pot with me.”

  Dark eyebrows rose. “What was that about?” he asked.

  “Trust me. You don’t want to know.” I brushed salt off my hands with a napkin. “You were saying?”

  Instead of answering, Asher swiped my cheeseburger and took a huge bite.

  I eyed him as I sipped my soda. “You’re playing with fire, Blackwell.” When he reached for a fry, he barely missed getting stabbed by my fork. “I’m hungry.”

  Asher grinned and returned my cheeseburger. “So am I. I saw you when I walked in and forgot to order dinner.” His expression sobered. “You can’t keep ignoring this.” He waved a hand between us, daring me to deny the truth.

  Having come to the same realization, I nodded in reluctant acceptance.

  Asher studied me for a moment, his gaze tracing over my face and neck. “You remember the day we met on the beach?”

  My response came hesitantly as I wondered where this was going. “Yes.”

  “You never asked why I took your picture.”

  “I figured it was obvious.” I gestured to where bruises had colored my face that day.

  His angry frown didn’t mar his good looks in the least. “You thought I was taking pictures of your bruises?”

  “What else?”

  “Remy, that’s ridiculous.”

  “Right. It must’ve been my astounding beauty in all its glorious high-def clarity that caught your attention.”

  Asher leaned forward and slid a hand across the table until his hand almost touched mine. Heat zinged from his fingertips.

  “Remy.” He waited for me to look up. “Don’t you know? You take my breath away.”

  Solemn eyes focused on mine without a hint of the teasing I’d expected. Feeling exposed, I tucked my hands in my lap out of his reach.

  Asher pulled back, too, giving me space. “I can’t believe you’d think I was that low. I didn’t even notice the bruises, at first. I went out there to get shots of the clouds moving in. It’s wild when it storms over the harbor.” He smiled, remembering. “I stepped on that beach, and there you were with your hair blowing about and your wise, sad eyes. I had to take your picture to prove you existed somewhere other than my imagination.”

  The handsome, sculpted face and gentle voice mesmerized me. I’d connected to him when I’d sensed his loneliness. Asher reached for me, and my heart thudded into my rib cage. His powerful gaze dared me to back away. I didn’t move, and he slipped a hand in my hair, his fingers combing through the long strands near my cheek. It felt like a touch, though the movement barely stirred the air.

  “Hey, Asher. Great game.”

  The deep voice shredded the intimate moment. I wished the visitor would go away when Asher’s expression hardened and his hand dropped. With some distance between us, I remembered how to form complete sentences and twisted to see who had joined us. His brot
her, Gabriel, stared at me with green eyes like Asher’s.

  “Gabe.” Asher’s clipped tone was unfriendly.

  Gabe’s gaze didn’t stray from my face. Seeing his features up close, I was captivated, though my appreciative perusal was impersonal. Almost too beautiful to be real, his appearance left me cold. Gazing upon Gabe, you had to admire the artistry of the creator who could mold such perfection.

  He reinforced the illusion when he smiled. I couldn’t find a flaw anywhere, and that made me nervous. For some inexplicable reason he reminded me of a predatory shark who’d sensed blood and circled in for the kill. He had to be only a couple of years older than me, but that age gap could have been ten years for all I cared. Still, that didn’t stop me from admiring perfection in its purest form.

  A throat cleared and I shifted to find Asher scowling at me. On anyone else that expression would have been jealousy, but it made no sense. Even if he’d had grounds for jealousy, it wouldn’t have been fair. His brother was a work of art, and Asher couldn’t blame me for looking. When Asher continued to glare, I rolled one shoulder in a shrug.

  Forest-green eyes narrowed and I blinked. Whoa. I guess he can blame me for looking.

  Gabe missed the exchange as he stared into my eyes with soulful intent. “Asher, introduce me to your friend,” he demanded.

  Asher remained silent, and I introduced myself. “Remy O’Malley. But you can call me Jailbait.”

  “Hi, Remy O’Malley. I’m Gabe. My brother didn’t mention you had a sense of humor.”

  His voice had the same proper accent as Asher’s, but with none of the sandpaper roughness that caused goose bumps to form on my arms. I detected a hint of com-petiveness in Gabe’s smile as he leaned forward with one hand on the table and the other on the back of my seat. He was too cocky; too sure I’d be putty in his hands if he deigned to notice me. I’d thought Asher arrogant, but his brother owned it.

  I decided I didn’t like Gabe.

  It also occurred to me that Asher’s abilities might run in the family. Distaste filled me at the idea of Gabe’s energy mingling with mine, and I shored my mental walls up five stories higher and ten miles wider.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Asher’s satisfied smile.

  Gabe continued to invade my space, and I scooted my chair toward Asher until he had to let go or fall. Gabe didn’t seem to notice my evasion. He stood over me, leaving me with the distinct impression that he was hunting me.

  “I heard your dad bought you a new car. My own car is a manual transmission, and I’d be glad to come to the aid of a damsel in distress.”

  Who said things like that? He smiled, turning the full force of his charm on me, and I bet his technique had worked in the past, if the string of his Sorori-toys were anything to judge by. I thought, Shark! I grinned up at Gabe showing all my teeth in my best impression of the carnivorous animal he channeled. He frowned as if I’d frustrated him.

  “Thanks for the offer, Gabe, but—”

  “But Remy already asked me.” Asher gave his brother a warning look.

  Gabe’s shrugged. “Didn’t hurt to try, bro.” He winked at me before leaving, and his rich voice threatened, “See you later, Remy.”

  I watched him stride away—really, he was a lovely shark—until Asher’s tapping fingers threatened to bore a hole in the tabletop. Twisting about, I observed how close we sat. My face was inches from his, and his breath fanned my cheek. I scooted my chair back so I could think without the spicy scent of him filling my head. I wondered what he was so upset about. It’s not like we’re dating.

  Asher’s smile turned grim. “Go ahead and shrug, Remy.”

  I’d been about to do just that, but the dare implicit in his voice had me rolling my shoulders as if my intent had been to ease tight muscles in my back.

  “So, when’s my first lesson, Teach?” I asked.

  The tension in Asher’s body lessened as he blew out a breath, ruffling the hair on his forehead. I fought the urge to run my fingers through it. “Sorry about that. Gabe wanted to get under my skin, and it worked.”

  “No! Really? And here I thought two of the hottest guys I’ve ever seen were going to throw down over me.” There was no missing the sarcasm in my voice.

  “You think I’m hot?” he said, with a laugh.

  He looked pleased by the idea, and I rolled my eyes. “Like you don’t know you’re good looking.”

  “I don’t care about that kind of thing, but I’m absurdly glad you think so.”

  This fact seemed to annoy him. He stared into the distance, frowning, and I decided to change the subject. “Do you and your brother not get along?”

  “We do, actually. From time to time, we happen to disagree on some things.”

  Curious, I asked, “Like what?”

  “Like you.”

  My voice reached a high-pitched squeak. “Me? Your brother never even noticed me before today.”

  Asher stole my soda and took a long sip. “Remind me to show you those pictures from the beach.” Before I could process that he’d developed the photos and kept them, he added, “Gabe noticed you about five minutes after I noticed you. He’s biding his time.”

  “For what?” Asher didn’t respond, and a second later the answer occurred to me. My nose wrinkled. “Did you call dibs on me?”

  “I wouldn’t put it quite like that, but yes. I told him to stay away from you.”

  I wasn’t angry in the least. I should have been, but I felt a warm glow of pleasure instead. “Why would you do that?”

  One strong hand slid close to mine where it rested on the table until I could feel the heat from the tips of his fingers. A scarred brow arched as he eyed me with cool arrogance.

  “Oh.” My traitorous hand tingled, and I sat on it to stop the sensation.

  A knowing smile curved his mouth. “Yeah. Oh.”

  “So, what was today about? Have you decided to make your move?”

  Green flames burned from his eyes. “Is that what you want?”

  Every nerve screamed, Yes! and I shifted in my seat. My heart galloped around the track in my chest, but I hesitated, remembering how he’d tested my defenses. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  He sighed. “I’m not sure of anything. Except that I could hurt you.”

  “Back at you,” I answered without hesitation.

  Asher looked frustrated. “Remy, don’t be foolish. You have no idea what you’re dealing with. Who you’re dealing with.”

  I snorted. “And you know everything there is to know about me?”

  He bowed his head in agreement. “Not everything, but enough. Certainly, more than you.”

  That sounded like a taunt, and my temper flared.

  Asher’s soft voice stopped me when I started to rise. “That wasn’t fair of me.”

  My curiosity overcame my pride, and I sank back into my seat. “Explain something to me. What happens when I let my barricade down?” A desire to know more about his power, about what would happen if I let my defenses down all the way, became harder to disregard every minute I spent with him.

  Instead of answering my question, he smiled. “You call it a barricade? That doesn’t sound adequate. It feels more like running headfirst into a brick fortress.”

  The description made me feel a little smug. My barricade had been getting stronger since I’d met him. His wall had been a tiny, white picket fence in comparison.

  Asher chuckled at my expression.

  Fascinated, I asked, “If it’s like running into a brick fortress, why do you keep trying?”

  He leaned away, and I couldn’t interpret the misery I read in his face. “You don’t know anything.”

  “I know what I felt on the beach, and what I’ve felt since. You have powers. You attacked me.”

  His expression flattened, the emotion gone in an instant. “Don’t ask questions I can’t answer. It’ll be better for both of us that way.”

  I didn’t know what would happen if he suc
ceeded in attacking me, but I’d never been afraid of what I couldn’t see. The boogeyman didn’t frighten me because I’d had a real monster living down the hall. If Asher wanted me to be afraid of him, he’d have to give me good reason because from where I sat, he didn’t seem to want to hurt me.

  He must have read my decision on my face because he sighed, resigned, and stood to go. “You’re not getting it. This was a mistake. Do me a favor and stay away from my family, okay?”

  He’d sought me out today, and then he told me to back off. The way he ran hot and cold pissed me off. Sick to death of men and their head games, I rose and told him, “I don’t know, Asher. I’ve always had a thing for older men. Maybe one Blackwell brother is as good as another.”

  I ignored the black scowl that darkened his features and walked away to join my friends. Hooking my arm through Brandon’s, I smiled when they ribbed me for fixing the bet so Lucy would win.

  Asher’s gaze scorched my back until I was out of sight.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The next day I skipped English to avoid Asher and raced home at the first opportunity.

  After dinner, Laura drove me to the pool for my swimming lesson. Brandon already waited in the shallows when I left the locker room in my suit and walked down the pool steps to join him.

  “You know, if the other guys ever figure out you have legs, we’ll have to find another place to practice.”

  I splashed water in his face, and he laughed.

  We spent the next hour practicing the breaststroke. Brandon made me proud when he only smirked once at saying “breast.” He cut through the water in a smooth line, swimming lap after lap beside me, the contracting muscles in his arms making the ink on his arms ripple. Soon, we noticed the pool had emptied out, and it was close to closing time.

  Brandon climbed out of the deeper end of the pool instead of using the stairs. Leaning down, he offered to help me out, and I grasped his hand. He exerted too much force yanking me up to his side. My body fell into his, and he reacted by wrapping both arms around me tightly enough to steal my breath. He stumbled from the impact, and his hand dipped below my waist.

  The logical part of me knew it was an accident. Brandon treated me with kindness and respect. He didn’t know that Dean had held me like this last year when I stepped between him and Anna during a brutal fight. He’d wrapped his arms around me as if to apologize for slapping me. Then, he’d squeezed me until I’d passed out and bruises covered my ribs.