Whirlwind (18 page)

I wanted to speak, to tell him…but there was no way to describe what he’d just given me. Instead, I buried my face in his hair and lightly rubbed his back, clinging to the bliss for one more second.

Jason lifted his head and gazed at me, bathing me in such deep affection that I was overwhelmed. A tear escaped from the corner my eye.

He caught it with his finger. “What is this?” he asked, his expression fading into concern.

“You’re so
amazing
,” I whispered. “There aren’t words.”

He peered at me, ready to argue or complain, but I touched his lips, shaking my head. I traced his mouth, his cheek, his eyebrows, letting my finger wander his face. A few strands of hair had flopped down over his forehead, and his eyes closed as I carefully pushed them back into place.

With a purr, Jason smiled, pecked my hand, then ducked his head to mine. One last tremor shook me as our languid lips touched, a final taste of the rapture we’d shared.

The vision I’d had when I first saw Jason reappeared in my head, mirroring what had just happened. I couldn’t believe how much of the fantasy had come to pass. At this moment I was closer to Jason than I’d ever been to anyone in my life, and yet he was still largely a stranger to me. Could more of the fantasy come true? What was it about him that drew me in?

Jason returned his head to my shoulder, and I decided it didn’t matter. He sighed serenely as I ran my fingers through his hair, and I knew he was falling asleep.

Unable to resist, I pressed my lips to his forehead. The sweetness of his shampoo mixed with the pleasant saltiness of his damp skin. Though I was tired, my eyes stayed wide open. I wouldn’t waste the little time I had left with Jason by sleeping.

Tomorrow he’d be gone.

Eight

Jason slept so deeply I could barely tell if he was breathing. I rested my head on his chest, listening to his slow, steady heartbeat. I still couldn’t believe he’d discarded offers from a dozen attractive women and chosen me…and that I’d actually come with him.

Literally.

My thoughts drifted back, reviving every memory Jason had given me over the last few wonderful hours. I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face, or the blush, as I remembered his sly looks and coy comments. As happy as I was, one thing was missing. I slid carefully out of Jason’s grasp and rested my chin in my hand so I could see him.

What was the word he’d used?
Magnificent
. Now I was complete.

He didn’t wake when I stirred, but he unconsciously pulled the sheet up to his chin and turned his head toward me. Asleep he was the picture of peace, his eyes fringed with thick, dark lashes; his lips full and pink. His mussed hair danced around his face playfully, giving him an innocent, wholesome look. My fingers twitched, dying to stroke his cheek, but I resisted, afraid to wake him. Or was I afraid if I touched him he’d vanish, a figment of my imagination?

No, my imagination has never been this good.

I’d given up on miracles a long time ago, but lying next to Jason, I had to admit they existed. He’d tried to persuade me I was beautiful with his words, his kiss, his touch; and for a brief moment I did believe. In the flickering light of the fire, I
was
beautiful to him, just like in the fairy tales. But now the fire was out. This miracle would last only one night, and unlike Cinderella, there would be no shoe left behind. My handsome prince would be riding off to medical school, not after me.

With that thought, I rose. I couldn’t lie next to him and think about the coming end—but I couldn’t erase the worry, either.

I went to the closet, cringing when it squeaked open. Searching for a robe, all I found were empty hangers and Jason’s suitcase, propped open on the luggage rack. There was just enough light for me to make out a wad of clothing on top of the folded sets below, and I realized I’d found his regular nighttime wear—light knit pajama pants and a T-shirt.

Standing in the dark, naked, I lifted the T-shirt and held it close, inhaling the scent clinging to it. Hints of his woodsy cologne reminded me of the kiss he gave me in the receiving line and the gleam in his eye when he learned my identity. I glanced back toward the bed, but Jason hadn’t moved. A strange urge filled me, and I quickly slipped the shirt over my head. It felt so right…like I belonged to him.

Jason coughed and rolled over, and I froze. What would he think, seeing me wearing his clothing?

He’d want it back
. Naughty Melissa was awake, and I covered my mouth, stifling a giggle.

Jason resumed his even, nearly silent breathing.

I’d never indulged my reckless side before, and I felt amazingly satisfied, even powerful, having done so. Unfortunately, before I could celebrate my freedom, Nervous Melissa woke up too.

Yes, last night was fun, but now it’s over.

The words thundered through my head as I stood beside the bed. I tried to sort out the conflicting voices: one begging me to rejoin Jason, wake him, and find ecstasy with him again; the other advising me to distance myself, reminding me I didn’t know him and that in a few hours he’d be gone forever. It was the second voice I heeded.

I found my bag stashed next to the door and fished out the extra set of clothes I’d planned to wear on the trip home. I donned a fresh pair of underwear—thanking my mom for urging me to “always be prepared”—and jeans. Tiptoeing into the living room, I intended to leave Jason alone for the rest of the night.

The fire had died in here too, but the room wasn’t dark. A ghostly white glow emanated from the few visible windows. The fog had flattened itself against the water, reflecting the rising moon’s bright light. But it was the clothes strewn across the floor that caught my eye.

I picked them up, one by one, in the order they’d been tossed aside. My blouse, his shirt, my bra—each piece evoked a different erotic memory. Who knew how sexy buttons could be? I felt like I watched someone else as the images passed through my mind’s eye—surely it wasn’t me who said those things, who
did
those things?

But it
was
me. My original vision reappeared—that intense flash-forward to the future. This time I paid closer attention to the rest of the story, having already experienced the first part. I watched an imaginary Jason slide a diamond-studded band on my finger…hold a SOLD sign high above his head…cradle a pink bundle gently in his arms, tears streaming down his face. I saw every girl’s happily ever after.

The dream wasn’t new, I realized. I’d had it many times as a child. Prince Charming didn’t have a face in those days; he’d just been a blurry image, a hope. I’d been sure he would come for me, that I would get
my
happily ever after. When my fairy-tale life had turned tragic, I’d discarded my dreams…or so I’d thought.

The movie in my mind shifted from PG to R as the Jason of my fantasies appeared again, rolling me on top of his eager, naked body. No, this Jason wasn’t a dream—far from it—and he’d given me
that
extremely happy ending. The dream was that we’d have anything more than sex. Granted, it was intense, mind-blowing, and-the-angels-wept sex. Sure, I’d want more of
that
. Who wouldn’t?

If only I could truly believe the fantasy was just lust. While waking Jason and having my way with him was appealing, what I really wanted was to curl up in his arms and stay that way. Tonight, tomorrow, the next day…I wanted to know he’d always be there, next to me.

This is bad. Really, really bad.

As I stood in front of the windows, bathed in moonlight, the real future unfolded before me, minus the happy ending.

Jason would return to
Ann Arbor
tomorrow—no
today
—to start the summer session. After he graduated in the fall, he’d attend medical school; would that be in
Michigan
too? It was obvious he was anxious to move through his studies and begin practicing medicine. It was equally apparent he was going to be a great physician. He wouldn’t have the time—or probably the inclination—to see me, even if he were close enough to do so.

My future was much less interesting. I’d drive home, collect the few remaining things at my apartment in Santa Lucia, then head for my mom’s house. Our last summer together would consist of a short trip to the
Northern California
wine country and a part-time summer job for me. Next fall I hoped to start an internship at a real newspaper; I had applications submitted at ten different papers up and down the West Coast. Following that would be a few more months of school, then I’d start my career.

Who knows where I’ll end up…

I caught my gloomy reflection in the window. As much as I wanted to be with Jason, I knew it was impossible. And the more attached I became, the harder leaving would be—for both of us. We’d each built our own lives, and they only intersected at this one place, at this one small point in time. I couldn’t give up my hopes and plans, and I certainly wouldn’t expect him to make such a sacrifice.

I argued with myself, feeding the despair that was eating me from the inside out. All the relationships I’d been in had ended the same way: with the guy eventually disappearing, usually with the words “I’ll call you sometime.” I’d given up, accepting my fate as everyone’s dependable friend. I was happy with my uncomplicated life—at least I used to be.

But Jason didn’t deserve to be strung along. I should make it easy for him to go; he didn’t have any choice
but
to leave. That we knew so little about each other meant our tryst held no lasting ties. He’d be free to find the one who’d drop everything and follow him as he pursued his passion.

Even still, my heart yearned to hear him ask
me
to stay, to find a way to be together, but I knew those words wouldn’t come. He deserved better than me: an invisible loner who spent more time writing about other people’s lives than living one of her own. My prince deserved a proper princess.

Nervous Melissa urged me to run. If I left while he slept, I could save him the messy sendoff and the empty promises that would come with it. If I walked away now, he could go back to
Michigan
with a nice memory and a clear conscience. I could go back to my life and this amazing night would fade into the past—wouldn’t it? Would Naughty Melissa accompany me home, or was she only for Jason?

Turning, I looked at the front door, outlined in creamy brightness, and realized I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t just slink away into the night. Pride said I wasn’t that much of a coward, but in truth, if I’d been able to run from him, I wouldn’t be standing here now. I had no remorse for having spent the night with him; on the contrary, I savored the glimpse of heaven he’d given me. No matter the consequences of this night, I wouldn’t change a thing.

Jason had been such a gentleman. With every word and action he’d considered me first—so concerned about my feelings, both emotional and physical. I owed him the same courtesy. He deserved a face-to-face farewell before I left, a closure. I didn’t want him to feel like he
had
to stay in contact with me—another email exchange would be pointless. The last one had only made it a few weeks before it evaporated.

Long-distance relationships didn’t live long, that I knew. Summer vacation had killed the last relationship I’d been in, and that guy had only lived in the next county.
Michigan
was more than two thousand miles away. Jason had to know I understood this one night was all we had.

Just one night? It’s not enough.

I felt like I was losing a lifelong friend, not a recent acquaintance. I squeezed the clothes in my arms against my chest and against Jason’s shirt, wishing it was him. What would I say?

Sappy, meaningless phrases paraded through my head.
You’re a dream come true…last night was amazing…thanks for the memories…
it was all crap. How could I tell him how wonderful he was? That he deserved so much more than I could ever give him?

My life changed the moment I saw you…
No, no, no. It can’t be that way.
Farewell, my prince.

I let the clothes fall and buried my face in my hands. The pain welled up—like my heart had grown spines and was stabbing me from the inside. All I could see was a big, silver plane and Jason’s face, smiling happily in one of the small, oval windows. The plane taxied and took off, becoming a smaller and smaller dot in the sky until it disappeared completely.

A familiar emptiness enveloped me, an ache I hadn’t felt in a long time. Why was I feeling this…this
loss?
It wasn’t like Jason was dying, and yet it was the same pain I’d felt years ago when Dad—

“Couldn’t sleep?”

I jerked my head around.

Jason stood behind me, clad only in his pajama pants. He grinned, seeing his baggy shirt hanging on me. When his eyes drifted to mine, his approving smile faded.

“No, I couldn’t. I’m sorry if I woke you,” I said. I turned back to the windows, mad at myself for letting him catch me like this. It was no surprise when his arms appeared around me.

“I was wondering where my shirt went,” he whispered, and I tried to fight the sizzle his closeness sent through me. “Did you get chilly?”

“No.” I struggled to find something else to say, but had nothing.

“Why did you get dressed?”

“There wasn’t a robe.”
Lame
.

He traced my arm, his breath cool on my neck, raising goose bumps all over my skin. “Come back to bed, Melissa. If you can’t sleep…” He finished the sentence by kissing the nape of my neck.

Naughty Melissa made a feeble attempt to comply with his request, but she lost the battle for control of my mouth, for once.

“Maybe in a minute,” I said.

As much as I wanted to take him up on his offer, I knew it would only make leaving that much harder. My throat tightened, and I closed my eyes, trying not to think about what he had in mind.

Jason abruptly let go of me. “What’s wrong, Melissa?” His voice cut through the air, laced with something dark. Dread?