Page 18 of The Lost Soldier
“I didn’t say that to you, I thought it.”
She frowned. “Now you’re just being a dick.”
He shook his head. “No. When I hear you talking to me inside my head, there is no background noise. Just you. But when I read your thoughts, it’s like I’m in a wind tunnel, and it’s all muffled. Try to read my mind now.”
If anyone had told her a year ago she’d be having this conversation with Chad, she would have laughed hysterically.
I really, really, really, still like her. Oh, God. No. Don’t think that. Fuck. Hopefully this will take her a while.
“Nope. I did that pretty quickly.”
“What did you hear exactly?”
“You started with the word, fuck,” she said, lying, hoping he couldn’t tell.
And do you hear the difference?he asked her in his mind. She nodded, the word ‘really’ still tumbling around inside her mind, stirring up so many mixed emotions she thought she might spontaneously combust. “I have to say I don’t like how easily we can do that. It means we can’t have a private thought. Ever.”
“I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but I bet we can somehow block each other, but for now we have to trust the other won’t go there.”
She reached out, palming his cheek. “Why did you purposely hurt me that day?”
He sucked in a sharp breath, coiling his fingers around her wrist, tugging gently. “You know I was adopted by a single man who died when I was in college.”
“I remember you telling me, yes.” She shifted on the bed, tucking her feet up under her butt, leaning sideways on the pillows.
“I had a premonition of my father’s car accident shortly before he crashed, but I was unable to get a hold of him. What good is this gift when I can’t save the one man who saved my life?”
“Oh God, Chad. I’m so sorry, but you’re not the only one who couldn’t save someone they loved. Hazel had a premonition about our parents’ death. Willow heard their cries for help. I used remote viewing to find them, but it was too late. Alexis couldn’t heal them. Four sisters with different gifts, and our parents still died.” She swallowed the lump in her throat.
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered. “You never told me.”
“I thought if I told you, it would prove in your mind what a crock of shit you thought all this was.”
“Do you know why I pushed you away?” he asked.
“Fear of your gifts.”
He shook his head. “Fear I’d see you die in a vision, then have to relive it because I couldn’t save you.” He tipped her chin with his thumb and forefinger.
Her heart hammered in her chest as if this were the first time they shared an intimate moment.
“The first ten years of my life had been one foster home after another. I remember when people would come look at babies and ogle over them, wanting them, wondering why no one wanted me when I was a baby.”
“Oh, Chad,” she whispered.
He hushed her by placing his finger over her plump, moist lips. “Sometimes, late at night, I’d have these visions. I kind ofthought I was always dreaming and maybe I was, but I’d see you. Me. A house. Other people but didn’t always see their faces. I saw a life and then one day, out of nowhere, there you were, standing at the street corner, phone in your hand, texting away, occasionally glancing up. I thought I’d been hit by a bus and had died or something. I stood there, watching you walk across the street. People rushed by me as I was heading in the opposite direction. Just before you hit me, I saw the coffee go everywhere, and you looked up at me, and I couldn’t breathe. Next thing I know, I’ve got my hands on your boobs.”
“You had to ruin a romantic moment by saying boobs.” She rolled, straddling him, resting her arms on his thick shoulders.
His fingers dug into her hips.
“I’ve always liked your boobs,” he whispered. “Really, really, really…” His sweet lips brushed whimsically across her cheek. “I really, really, really still like everything about you. Not a day has gone by where I haven’t thought about you.”
His tongue lingered over her lips, gently opening her mouth. His hands glided across her back, lifting her shirt. He tugged the fabric over her head, tossing it on the floor. His thick hands cupped her breasts, thumbs toying with the lace just above her tight, throbbing nipples.
She cupped his face, ramming her tongue inside his mouth, needing to taste and touch every part of his thick, hard body. An urgency that had built up over the last year took over like an addiction that controlled her every movement.
Groping and clawing, she tried to rip off his shirt. She could have sworn he laughed against her mouth right before he flipped her onto her back, the bed squeaking and bouncing like two crazed animals were attacking one another. He yanked her pants down to her ankles in one hard tug.
