Intrinsical - Lani Woodland [97]
“Still throwing yourself at me I see.”
“At least I wasn’t trying to hit you.” I wrapped my arms around myself. “Are you always so cold?”
“You know, you really shouldn’t be touching me in such an intimate manner. I might get the wrong idea.” Brent dropped down to the edge of my mattress and his eyes swept over our room, stopping occasionally to study a poster or picture.
“Right, I’ll try not to defile your innocent spirit anymore,” I said with a grin.
“Thank you. I wouldn’t want my reputation tarnished.”
I laughed and sat down next to Brent, positioning myself to face him, bringing my pillow across my lap. “I guess I’m a full-fledged Waker now, because I can totally see and hear you.”
“I was getting worried. I’ve been trying to contact you since your accident but you couldn’t see me. I turned on the radio to our song and everything. What happened?”
“I got my memory back. I guess you should have pelted me with an orange earlier.”
We exchanged grins. Curiously, I reached out and tried to touch his face, feeling nothing more than cold air. He placed his hand over mine, tickling my fingers with a soft frosty breeze. “I can almost feel you. Or rather, I can feel a chill, letting me know where you should be.” My spine sagged with my heart and the corners of his lips twitched south. “This is unacceptable.” I left my body, grabbed him, and hugged him fiercely. “That’s better.”
A laugh rumbled through him as held me close. “Did you really think you could get rid of me so easily?”
I burrowed my face into the crook of his neck, breathing in his citrusy, musky scent, as his arms tightened around my waist.
“Could you please get back in your body, though?” He asked, pulling back without releasing me. “It’s making me nervous.”
“I want to be able to touch you, to make sure you’re real.” He pinched me and I scowled at him, making him laugh again as he shooed me back toward my body. I reentered, shivering at the rush of cold that trampled through me.
“Put on your necklace too, please.” He said, pointing toward the plastic bag on my chest of drawers. “And never take it off again,”
With an apologetic smile I pulled it from the bag and clasped it around my neck. I became conscious of his intense brown eyes focusing on me. A blush spread across my face that deepened till I thought my cheeks might sunburn from the inside out. When he finally looked away, I chanced a look in his direction, letting my eyes caress his features. I noticed the corners of his mouth curve up and I knew that he had caught me, like a child with her hand in the cookie jar.
“I missed you.”
Brent laughed without a trace of mirth. “Funny, I was thinking you had forgotten me.”
Not wanting to meet his eyes I dropped my gaze and studied the sunlight whispering through the window, gliding across the carpet. “I had, but some part of me remembered. My last thought before I woke up in the hospital was worry for you. I was afraid Thomas had captured you.”
Brent raked his fingers through his hair a few times, standing up suddenly and pacing around my small room. “You kissed him.”
“I did it to save my life, you idiot.” I stood up, my hands on my hips, shoulders squared. “Yours, too.”
“I know,” he said, frowning, his fingernails hovering close to his lips, trying to fight the urge.
I tried to not smile at him. “You’re not jealous, are you?”
Brent forced a chuckle. “No.”
“For your information,” I said, wagging my finger at him, “I was leaning away from him before you hit me with that orange. I wasn’t going to kiss him.”
Brent had the decency to look a little bit repentant. “I didn’t know that until the last second.” Brent gave in and started chewing on one of his nails again. “How did you know it wasn’t me?”
“I didn’t. I just knew something was wrong.” I kicked off my shoes and tucked my feet under me as I sat down on Cherie’s bed, across from Brent.
“I guess that’s something,” he said.
“He has the scar on his ankle