Chapter Eight
LATE THAT NIGHT, I turned over and punched my pillow for the twentieth time, trying to fluff it up and get more comfortable so I could actually sleep. It didn’t work. I jumped out of bed, grabbed the candle on my nightstand, and headed out of my room. Maybe the library would have a book I could borrow. I hadn’t read anything good in a long time.
When I got to the library, I stopped just outside, noticing the door slightly ajar and a light shining from inside. Maybe someone else couldn’t sleep and had come to find a book as well. I hesitated a moment, wondering if I should retreat to my room, when I heard a hiccup and then a decidedly feminine giggle. Curiosity won out, and I pushed the door open a little so I could peek inside to see what was going on. I’m sure my jaw just about unhinged as I took in the scene before me. Mrs. Howell, dressed in her long, white nightgown with her lovely blonde hair hanging down almost to her waist, was sitting Indian-style on a rug in front of the fireplace. Beside her was a half-empty bottle of liquor, and in her hand was an almost-empty glass.
“Ah! Sage! Please, do come in and join me! I hate to be the only one having fun.” She smiled crookedly and hiccupped at the same time.
I gave a little jump at being caught staring and looked around as if help would pop out of the woodwork to explain this bizarre scene. As I walked over to the party of one, I noticed how young she looked with her hair down and her eyeglasses missing.
“Is anything wrong, Mrs. Howell?” I asked. Something had to be wrong… I mean, this was a drunken version of Mary Poppins!
Her big, blue eyes looked up at me, shinning with too much liquor and amusement. “Why would anything be wrong? Everything is just… fine.” She drew out the last word.
I sat down on the carpet next to her, moving the bottle a little out of the way.
“And please, call me Elaine. After all, I’m not that much older than you.”
She smiled, and my only thought was, Wow, if she smiled like that a little more often, men would be lined up at her doorstep!
I smiled back, and for the first time in a long time, I actually felt like myself. Tension seeped out of my body. Yeah, she was well on her way to being good and toasted, but who was I to judge?
Elaine jumped to her knees, produced a second glass from nearby, and without much spilling, she poured a glassful and thrust it at me, sloshing some on her hands in the process. I started to say no, but then I noticed something I hadn’t caught before—a telltale puffiness under her eyes that could only have come from crying—and I wondered what had caused her so much anguish that she’d cried late at night when no one could see.
“What the hell,” I announced more to myself than to Elaine. “No one should have to drink alone.” I threw back half the contents of the glass. The alcohol burned going down, but the aftertaste was a pleasant surprise.
The next thing I knew, the bottle was quite empty, and Elaine and I had gone from buzzed to three sheets to the wind. We talked about all kinds of things, and I was surprised to find out how much we had in common. It was easy to understand in that moment that no matter what era you were from, women were, deep-down, the same creatures. When I tried to explain technology, society, and rock ‘n’ roll to her, her expressions were so funny I laughed until my sides hurt. Vaguely, I recalled acting out and singing “You’re the One That I Want!” from the movie Grease, and afterwards going into detail about the black-leather getup Olivia Newton John had worn. Her face was priceless—going from horrified to longing in quick succession—and I laughed so hard I got stomach cramps and hiccups.
We were both singing, “I Can’t Get No Satisfaction,” when I heard a gasp from Elaine. I looked in the direction she was staring to see Dr. Blake and Travis Connely standing just inside the library door. I stuttered to a stop, my heart plummeting to my toes. Dr. Blake had his arms crossed over his chest, his trademark scowl in place, and poor Travis was looking at us in absolute shock.
I slapped a hand over my mouth to keep from giggling at the whole ridiculous scene, but when I looked over at Elaine and saw her crying, I went from irritated and amused to pissed off in a second flat. Surely, she was entitled to a little fun, a little time to let go of everything and be irresponsible for once.
I jumped to my feet—wobbling only a bit, thank goodness—and opened my mouth to give someone a piece of my mind. Before I could say anything, I heard snorting next to me. I looked over at Elaine and realized she was laughing so hard she was snorting and crying as she held her stomach.
“Should… see… your… faces!” she gasped out through very unladylike snorts.
She flounced back onto the loveseat, and ignoring the wobbly room, I sat down beside her. When Elaine finally stopped laughing, her shoulders slumped as exhaustion took its place. She leaned over and put her head on my shoulder, her eyelids already drooping.
“I would love to have been born in your time, Sage,” she said with a yawn. “Though, I never would have known the love of my life or have been given the purpose I now live with.” She looked up at me through bloodshot eyes and frowned slightly. “You know, I guess I really wouldn’t want to have been born in your time after all…” The last part of her sentence slurred as she dozed off on my shoulder.
She must have loved someone very deeply, I thought, slightly jealous. My eyes were closing against my will when Travis came into my line of vision.
“Let me take her to her room. She wouldn’t want to be seen, and everyone will be waking up soon,” he whispered, gazing at Elaine, who had begun to snore softly.
I nodded, and Travis gently gathered her into his arms and carried her out of the library. I knew I needed to get to my room, too. Unfortunately, my head was feeling foggy.
I tried to stand and felt like I’d stepped onto a Tilt-A-Whirl. Dr. Blake was at my side in a blink.
“Shit, I forgot about him.”
His eyebrow shot up into his hairline.
I groaned. “Did I say that out loud?”
His lip twitched into a gorgeous smirk of a smile. “I’m afraid you did. Let me help you into your room, Sage.”
I sighed and tried to move my rubbery legs, when Dr. Blake scooped me up into his arms. I squeaked in alarm.
“Shush! You’ll wake the whole house,” he said close to my ear.
I suppressed a shudder. “Put me down! I’m not too drunk to walk, for crying out loud.”
I felt more than heard a deep chuckle, probably because even though I was arguing, my body had gone limp in his arms. Traitorous hormones!
His body heat and the swaying as we ascended the staircase had me snuggling into him. I felt his arms stiffen, and that sobered me up just a little. Unfortunately, I was too drunk to let him brush me off so easily.
Dr. Blake carried me into my room and set the candle on my dresser. He carefully set me down on the edge of the bed and stepped back.
I stood up quickly and took his hand in mine—liquid courage and all that. His eyes narrowed, and he very nearly jerked my hand off as he snatched his from my grip. My eyes widened at the violent reaction, and he must have seen the hurt in my eyes before I looked away because his gaze softened a fraction.
“Go to bed, Sage; you’ll be more yourself in the morning, once all the alcohol is out of your system.”
I ignored him, put both my hands flat on his chest, and was gratified to hear him hiss in a breath. The sound made my bones liquefy.
Feeling a little brave, I slid my hands up his muscled chest and then around the back of his neck to dig my fingers into his thick, wavy hair. I stretched up on my tiptoes and leaned into the arch of his neck to inhale his addictive scent.
Just one little taste can’t hurt, I thought as I licked the skin at the hollow of his neck. A moan escaped my lips, and I felt a shudder run through the length of his body.
Dr. Blake grabbed my arms, which I figured was to push me away, and I was disappointed. Instead, he held me at arm’s length, studying my face in the candlelight, looking fo
r something. What, I didn’t know.
“You don’t find me attractive, Dr. Blake? Am I not your type? Not ladylike enough?” I asked, meaning to come off nonchalant. But I heard my voice crack at the end and couldn’t help but hate myself for it.
A growl of frustration erupted from his throat just before he pulled me to him and crushed his lips to mine.
Later, I would berate myself for not freezing that moment, to savor the beauty and passion of the kiss, but you could hardly think of those things when you were being kissed so thoroughly. Actually, I barely remembered my name right then.
He kissed me like a man starved, with a wild abandon that drove me insane. I had never been kissed so passionately, so completely that my head spun and my body went limp. When he broke the kiss, both of us were breathing heavily. I kissed his neck and leaned into him, our bodies flush again, and then I licked his pulse point. A delicious friction was building between us, and I rocked myself against him, needing to get as close as possible.
“Aldwin… you taste like wild honey, and it drives me crazy.”
His entire body went rigid, and I could feel him start to pull away from me.
“What did I do?” I whispered.
His eyes were blue chips of ice, and his jaw was clenched so hard it looked like it was about to break. “Sage, this shouldn’t have happened. I’m sorry.” He gently moved me away from him.
I was still reeling from the kiss we’d shared and the electric current flowing around us. Stumbling backward, I sat on my bed, feeling rejected, and I couldn’t bear to look at him. “Okay. If you would, please shut the door when you leave.”
My voice came out quietly, but even I could hear the steel behind the words. I lay down and pulled the covers over myself.
“Sage…”
I stiffened, then heard him sigh heavily as he quietly left, shutting the door behind him.
I didn’t cry. Survivors didn’t cry.
That’s what I kept telling myself.
Time Warper: Fated, A Sage Hannigan Novel Page 9
