A Matter of Fate (30 page)

He’s definitely amused. “Upstairs.”

I spy a staircase right outside the kitchen doorway. Without another word, I take off towards it. We race up the second floor, laughing and pushing each other out of the way. I make it through the first door on the right; Jonah follows not a second later, grabbing me around the waist. I hook a foot around his leg and we lose our balance and fall on the nearby bed, collapsing in gasps and giggles. It’s something we’d done dozens of times since we were little. I’d always found ways to slow him down—I never knew if it was because he lets me win or because I genuinely know how to outsmart him.

“You’re such a bad cheat!” Jonah rolls onto his side to prop himself up on an elbow. “First the head start, and then pushing me out of the way. You never change.”

I feel lighter than I have in a very long time. “I never cheat!” He lifts an eyebrow up, regarding me with such an unbelieving look that I crack up. “Like you didn’t know I’d try to slow you down on the way up here. You’re no better, though.”

“You think?”

I lean closer, savoring how my body is buzzing from being so near to his. “You showed up at school, leaving me to worry I was crazy, while you knew all the while exactly everything that was happening. Not to mention your own admission that you used your mojo on your father.”

He pretends to consider this. “I guess you’re right about the last one. Although, couldn’t we just chalk that up to Fate and not cheats?”

I sit up dramatically, rising to my knees on the bed. “Fate, my foot.” I like the easy banter between us, exactly as it’s always been. It’s like the last year and couple months have been erased.

He also rises up on his knees. “Maybe I cheated a little, especially with how I came to be in this town. Can you blame me?”

There’s this rush of intensity pumping throughout my entire body when he skims his hands lightly down my arms. “No,” I whisper, the teasing fading as I reach out to feel the softness of his sweater. He pulls me closer, and life as I know it ceases to exist.

Fireworks explode in my head, all intense yellows, reds and oranges. This isn’t our first kiss, not by any long shot. It’s been way too long since the last, yet the distance makes this one all the better for it.

I give myself over completely to the moment. I can’t focus on anything other than him and what he’s doing to me. He tastes so amazingly good. The way he kisses me is divine. I want him, in every way possible. And the things he does with his hands . . . It’s almost as if we literally can’t get enough of each other. I drop down onto the bed, pulling him with me. My hands snake up under his sweater, my fingers tracing patterns across his smooth skin. He shudders in a way that tells me he wants me just as much as I want him.

And I do want him, with an intensity that is awe-inspiring.

I don’t even know if I can explain it rationally, but I need to see if it’s the same for him. I reach out and hold his face in both of my hands. “Tell me what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling right now.”

The dimple appears. It’s Chloe kryptonite. “Look for yourself.”

The mere idea of surging with him is exciting. I’ve never seen the contents of his mind before, as I’d always been too paralyzed to even try in person and it wasn’t possible to do in dreams. I surge and am delighted to find a mirror of my own feelings: joy, passion, love and an absolute knowledge of being where he’s supposed to be.

With me.

It’s almost too much to handle, because I know I’m so damn lucky that he still feels this way about me. Because I love him so much it hurts.

I can’t believe I risked losing him.

I’m about to pull out of his mind when he threads his fingers into my hair, twirling ropes around his fingers. “Don’t leave yet,” he murmurs. And then, “Go farther. Deeper.”

I do so, and then he surges, going equally as far in my mind as I’m in his. The intertwining—no, merging of our minds, and to my surprise, our souls, is unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.

It rocks my entire existence.

There’s no flipping through memories, no looking for ideas or events. It’s all about our emotions, of how much we love each other and how inexplicably and tightly Connected we are to one another. I’m flying, every single part of my body singing and burning, and it’s all because of him. I don’t really have any prior experience to compare it to, but I’m pretty sure that whatever this is, it’s far, far better than sex ever can be. And this is in addition to the assumption that sex with Jonah would be
amazing
.

We are kissing again, and it’s hotter than before. I want to drown in him, in what he makes my body and heart feel.

Afterwards, I am breathless, incapable of words or even coherent thought for several minutes. He’s the same, so we end up simply staring into each other’s eyes. When my voice returns, I ask, “What was that?”

“Us,” he says quietly before kissing me again, so softly. “Us together.”

Is it a Connection thing? “My father has always said that it’s impossible for Magicals to surge at the same time, that minds and souls can’t handle such a thing.”

He laughs quietly. “Well, I kind of doubt he would encourage such a thing. I mean, what kind of dad tells their daughter:
Wanna hear about something you can do with your boyfriend that’ll literally blow your mind?
”

Did he just say boyfriend? Swoon! “Is that what I did? Did I blow your mind?”

His answer is another soft laugh. He rolls onto his back, bringing me with him so I’m now looking down at his face.

Suddenly, I feel a wild streak of possessiveness. “Have you ever done this with anyone before?”

“And if I said yes?”

I can’t even respond to that. I just sort of make a bunch of gasping sounds.

He leans up to kiss me. “Chloe. Don’t be ridiculous. Besides, from what I’ve been told, it’s only possible to do with one person, only the absolute right person for you. The one you’re Connected to.”

So it
is
a Connection thing. His words touch me in a deep, solid way. “Is that how you see me?”

His answer is to kiss me senseless, which is a very good answer, indeed.

Later on, I take a look around. “Is this your room?”

“Yep,” he says, and I roll off of him to sit up.

Jonah’s room, painted dark green, is much like the rest of the house: minimalist to the extreme. The only thing that sort of looks even remotely teenage-ish is a large print of a surfer hanging over his bed.

I stand up and stretch. “I’m so glad I’m here with you right now. I can’t believe I’m in your bedroom.”

He props himself up on his elbows. “I remember the first time I saw you, it seemed to take forever before you talked to me. Sort of like now, I guess. I worried for so long back then, too. I just had to keep holding out hope that you’d come to your senses.”

I grin at him while randomly picking things up off his desk to look at. “I’ve never been able to come to my senses around you, Jonah.”

He watches me move throughout his bedroom, studying even the smallest objects. Everything has a place in his room. His books and CDs are alphabetized. There are a few pictures sitting on his bookshelf. One is of Jonah, maybe ten years ago. I pick it up and tap the glass. “I remember this shirt you’re wearing. It was your favorite.”

He comes up behind me and looks at the photo. “Hm. I don’t really remember it.”

“I do,” I insist. He’d worn it a lot in our dreams when we were in first or second grade. “You know,” I say softly as I set the picture down, “I cried when you left.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, eyes crinkled with concern. “I don’t ever want to be the reason you cry.”

“Crying is in my nature. Good luck trying to change that.”

His chin comes to rest on my shoulder. “I would never want to change you.”

There’s another picture on his bookshelf, a fairly recent one of him and his brother. They’re standing on a beach, three surfboards propped up in the sand behind them. Kellan sports his typically sly grin, while Jonah’s smile is more even.

My chest grows heavy with guilt and confusion. “I’m not perfect. I think you know that pretty well by now.”

“Is anyone?”

And then, because his faith in me is so undeserved, I say in the tiniest voice possible, “What about what happened with your brother?”

He tenses, but he doesn’t move away. Silence fills the room, and I hate waiting, hate not knowing what he’s thinking. But I won’t surge, because if he wants me to know something, he’ll tell me.

Eventually, he says in a remarkably calm voice, “It’s like I said before. I don’t want to talk about that right now.”

I’m wondering how in the worlds he can so easily forgive me when he adds, “You have a large heart, and I would’ve been surprised if you hadn’t found much to love in my brother.”

Tears threaten to appear. “But . . . what about . . . ?”

“Are you happy right now, being here with me?”

“Of course.” I am beyond happy. Ecstatic is a much better word.

“And would you say . . . that
this
is where you want to be?”

It’s implied. Here, with
him.
“Absolutely.”

“Then what I said earlier stands true—it’s enough for me at the moment.”

I do as he asks and let it go for now.

Giuliana brings Karl to Jonah’s house close to midnight. My Guard friend is insisting he drive me home at such a late hour. Neither of them asks why I’m with Jonah when they come in, nor do they seem surprised.

We stand in the kitchen, discussing recent intel they’ve received. “There was a special Council meeting yesterday,” Karl says as Giuliana rummages around the fridge. “Let me tell you, after Oliver Crocus presented all of Alex’s findings, there was a shitstorm of screaming and accusations about why it took a seventeen-year-old to figure this out instead of a whole department of Intellectuals.” He gives me a wry smile. “Your dad got his ass chewed out big time.”

I try not to laugh.

“Has the Guard come up with a plan on how to deal with these things?” Jonah asks, and I stretch out my fingers and lace them in his. It feels weird to not to be touching him somehow.

“They’re working on it,” Karl says, eyeing our hands. “They’re sending out warnings to all the planes in the meantime.”

Giuliana adds, “I’m afraid your days of solo trips are long gone now.”

“What solo trips?” I ask sweetly. “If I’m not mistaken, you still sent Guard after us today. Just because they’re small, don’t think they don’t count.”

She’s totally unfazed by this. “No one guaranteed you’d be left alone. We simply said that
we
wouldn’t go with you today.”

If Karl has an opinion on this, he doesn’t let on. “I’m sure the Guard will find a solution on how to combat these things.”

Giuliana pulls out a glass container out of the fridge and shakes it at Jonah. “You have not eaten!”

Jonah shrugs. “I was distracted.”

I blush straight to my roots. Giuliana’s muttering under her breath in Italian as she shoves the dish into the microwave. “Since Chloe’s going home, you will eat it now.”

This is Karl’s cue. He holds out his hand to me. “Give me your keys. I’ll go warm the car up. Be outside in two minutes.”

I roll my eyes and hand over the keys without protest. Jonah and I follow Karl out to the living room, stopping at the door when he goes outside. “So,” I murmur, “I guess this means I have to go with him, right?”

Jonah takes my hands in his. “It’s pretty late, and you’ve got to be tired.”

“Not so much.” I don’t want let go of Jonah just yet, considering I’ve gone over a year without him.

He must sense my reluctance, because he says, “I’ll be over tomorrow morning around nine, all right?”

It’s not a question or a request. He’s telling me he’ll be there for sure. I like that. “Good. Don’t be late.”

“Giules is always on time. She’s the epitome of a morning person. I haven’t gotten to sleep past seven-thirty in months.”

“Then why not eight?”

“Because
I
am not a morning person. You won’t want me around before I’ve had enough time to wake up.”

“Yes. I do,” I insist. I don’t care if he’s grumpy. Just being with him will be enough.

“You’ll get sick of me,” he teases.

“Never.” I tell him this in his ear. He shivers when my breath hits his skin. “We’ve lost too much time together as it is. I won’t lose out on any more.”

His smile borders on smug. “You sure?”

“Absolutely. You?”

“You’re kidding, right?” he asks, kissing me to prove his point.

My parents are home and eating breakfast in the kitchen. I try not to be taken aback by their presence. “Jonah Whitecomb is coming over this morning,” I say as I fix myself a cup of tea.

This gets my mother’s attention. Neither she nor my father has met Jonah yet. “Oh? Where’s Kellan?”

Like she cares. In the last two months, she’s said, at the most, twenty words to Kellan. Even still, I tell her, while it isn’t technically true yet, “We broke up.”

“When did this happen?” she asks.

From where he’s standing, drinking his coffee, I can see Karl’s eyebrows rise. I shoot him a look, warning him to keep his trap shut.

My father saves me by interrupting to ask Karl to drive him to the portal this morning. Surprise, surprise, he’s already needed back in Annar, for another round of meetings concerning the Elders.

While they’re discussing this, I say quietly to my mom, “I want you to be nice to Jonah, please. And don’t embarrass me.”

“We never embarrass you, Chloe.”

Shocker! Parents
never
think they embarrass their children.

“And do me a favor,” I continue. “Don’t talk about Kellan, alright?”

“Why would we talk about Kellan?” my father asks, pushing up his glasses as he turns away from Karl. “Wait—who is Kellan?”

I sigh. “Kellan is Jonah’s twin brother, Dad.”

“Why are we not allowed to discuss him?”

It pisses me off that, in all the months I dated Kellan, my father never bothered to acknowledge him. Thinking about Kellan, even in this small way, though, hurts. I clamp down on the pain and try desperately to push all my happy memories of him into a box. I can’t let them distract me anymore, not with Jonah so easily willing to forgive me.