Death, and the Girl He Loves Page 32
“Yep.” I offered a congenial nod. “A few months.”
In all honesty, I could have named the exact days, hours, and minutes since our first meeting in the halls of Riley High, but that seemed unnecessary.
With my sudden appearance, the conversation took on a whole new direction. Clearly Mac didn’t want to question Jared’s intentions in front of me. But I sure wanted him to. What were his intentions? What would happen to him when we were all dead and buried? Could I still see him? Could we date in heaven?
So many questions, so little time.
Mac seemed hesitant to leave us alone, so after about half an hour of idle chitchat that included things like the forming of the earth and stars and that whole book of Revelations thing, my lids started to droop.
“Bedtime,” Jared said to me.
I snapped back to attention. “I’m fine.”
“You’re falling asleep at the table.”
I rubbed my eyes. “No, I’m not.”
“You’re drooling,” he added.
My hand shot to my mouth before I could stop it. I pressed my lips together. “I am not. I’m perfectly awake.”
The skeptical grin he bestowed upon me was a thing of absolute beauty. I stilled and took it in before he said, “How about I take you upstairs.”
“Um,” Mac said, interrupting, “how about I take you upstairs?”
Jared laughed, the sound deep and husky. “Fair enough. Wait, what’s that?” he asked, pointing toward the back of the house.
Mac turned to look, just as I did, but as I did so, Jared turned and put his mouth on mine so quickly, so softly, the kiss was only a brush of our lips before he pulled back and refocused on the back of the house again.
“What?” Mac asked.
My chest filled with such joy, such elation, that containing it when Mac turned back to us was like trying to block out the sun. But I did my best. I frowned and said, “I don’t see anything, either.” I even furrowed my brows as I looked past them. “Then again, I’m not a supernatural being.”
* * *
I kissed Mac good night for the second time that night, closed the door to my bedroom, turned, and ran right into Jared. When I sucked in a startled breath, he covered my mouth with his hand and put an index finger over his lips to quiet me, gesturing with a nod of his head toward a departing Mac.
After waiting a moment for my paternal grandfather to get down the stairs, I pulled his hand from my mouth and looked up at the handsome boy standing before me. He did that. Appeared out of nowhere. I liked that about him.
He grinned and slid a lock of my hair through his fingers.
“You seem so different,” I said. “So, I don’t know, at ease with all this.”
He rubbed the lock of hair over his mouth. “I’ve learned what it’s like to live without you these past weeks. It’s not a lesson I wish to repeat.”
“Me neither, I can assure you, but that still doesn’t explain why you suddenly seem to be taking all this really well.”
“Humans are unpredictable,” he said, walking backwards toward my bed and pulling me with him.
“I could’ve told you that.”
“All this time I was worried about how we were going to do this. What was going to happen to the world? How could we possibly win?”
“I’ve had similar thoughts. Quite a few, in fact.”
“But that’s just it. I don’t have to worry about it. Humans are unpredictable. Prophecies are not. So even though you believe with all your heart you’re going to fail, failure—” He looked up in thought. “How do they say it in the movies?” After a second, he fixed a mirthful grin on me. “Failure is not an option.”
“Been watching a lot of movies lately?”
He sat on my bed and literally pulled me into a straddling position onto his lap. I laughed and wrapped my arms around his wide shoulders. He felt heavenly. So much like a regular boy. Only with superpowers. And the ability to kill people with a touch.
“How is failure not an option?” I asked after settling in. “Because it feels pretty optional right now.”
“It’s written.” He pulled me closer so he could nuzzle my neck. Goose bumps raced across my skin and I looked around, worried about our audience. “And they’re asleep,” he added.
He would know. I relaxed and reveled in the feel of him in my arms. I’d yearned for this moment for so long, I had to force myself to believe it was real.
“Thanks for coming to see me,” he mumbled from the crook of my neck. His warm breath fanned over my collarbone.
“Coming to see you?”
“Mmm, the day I came for Elliot Davis.”
He was referring to my visits, my delving inside the picture I had of him from the ’70s.
I leaned back and gazed at him in astonishment. “You knew I would leave Riley’s Switch. You knew I’d be gone, didn’t you? I mean, I went inside the picture only recently, but for you it must have happened over forty years ago.”
“It did, yes. And I did.” His brows furrowed. “It’s weird how things happen. How I’ve known you for only a microsecond in the grand scheme of things and yet forever.” He looked down at me. “I’ve known you for a very, very long time. Even longer than you think.”
“Is that what you meant when you told Mac we’ve been seeing each other for centuries?”
“It’s related, yes.”