I touch his shoulder and he spins around. “That guy’s scum,” he spits. “What the hell is she thinking, gettin’ back with him?”
“I’m sorry,” I say helplessly.
He drags his hands down his face. “Come on. I’ll take you home.”
When we get back to the top of my cul-de-sac, Beau’s still fuming silently. I wonder what happened between him and his mom, or him and Bill, to make him this upset. “Are you going to be okay going back there?” I say softly.
“I’m not goin’ back there.”
“Where are you going?”
He shrugs. “I’ll sleep in my truck.”
I pull his face toward me, and he nestles against the space between my neck and shoulder. “Come inside,” I say. “We can sleep in my closet.”
He tightens his arms around my middle. “I won’t sleep if I’m layin’ next to you, Natalie.”
Heat spreads all through me, and my insides start vibrating again. “Then I’ll stay in my room,” I say. “We’ll have a door between us.”
“You think I’ll sleep better layin’ ten feet from you than I will in my truck?”
“Don’t you?”
He laughs, and drags me onto his lap, his hands soft on my hips. “How tired do you feel right now?”
“Like I haven’t slept for four days, and someone just stabbed a shot of adrenaline into my heart.”
“That’s how I feel when I’m at home, miles away, and I think about you.” He brushes a few stray hairs away from my lips and kisses me. “Goodnight, Natalie.”
25
“Why are you glowing?” Alice says flatly when I come into her office.
“I don’t know,” I reply. “Maybe because my parents agreed to let me stay until the end of the summer?”
Alice eyes me skeptically. “You’re screwing the guy from the other world.”
“I am not.”
She holds her hands up in front of her. “Whatever, making love, I don’t care. Just don’t let it get in the way of everything else.”
“I’m not, and it won’t.” I will my blush to fade as I plop down across from her.
“I wonder what would happen if you got pregnant,” she says, eyes growing distant with thought.
“Alice, I’m not having sex with Beau.”
“I’m just saying, do you think the baby would disappear after your Closing? Do you think it would be like you two? Which world would it belong in? It’s actually not a bad idea . . . are you open to getting pregnant?”
“Are you open to me leaving and never coming back?”
She waves a hand dismissively. “Don’t get all bent out of shape. It was just a thought. Anyway, good job buying us time. But three weeks is still not much.”
“It’s not,” I agree. “Maybe we should get to work.”
“How’s the dancing going?”
I shrug. “It feels great. Sometimes we seem to travel forward or backward in time, but I haven’t seen any clues that there’s a third world.”
“She’s hiding somewhere.”
“Yeah,” I say, “or somewhen.”
Alice’s eyes dart to me. “What’d you say?”
“I just meant she could be hiding in some other time,” I clarify. Alice stands abruptly and shoves a pile of books out of the way, grabs her purse, then heads toward the door. “Where are you going?”
“Something came up,” she barks. “I’ll see you Thursday for hypnotherapy, okay?”
“Alice!” I call after her.
“Thursday!”
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I fish it out to see Joyce’s name onscreen. My heart stops, but when I open the message, it’s just a picture of a bundle of flowers with a little note from the coach and Mrs. Gibbons. That’s so nice! I type back while swallowing the latest wave of anxiety. Every new message like that is just one more false alarm, one more reminder that Matt’s life is hanging in the balance and I’m no closer to figuring things out.
When Beau comes to get me that night, he looks more haggard than I’ve ever seen him. All day I’ve hardly stopped replaying our time together, haven’t stopped counting the seconds until we’re together again, but seeing him now, after a night in the truck and a long day at work, I know these excursions are pushing him too far. He needs rest. “We should take a couple of nights off,” I suggest.
“All right.” He reaches across the truck to pull me into his lap, awakening an electric current under my skin.
“That’s not what I mean,” I say, staring down into his parted lips. He starts to kiss my neck, and my breath becomes heavy, my fingers splaying out against his chest. “Beau, you need sleep. And you’re going to have to go home eventually.” It’s not what I want, but it’s what he needs.
He sighs, sets me back down beside him, and his eyes go to the steering wheel. “I know.” He runs his hand over his mouth and shakes his head. “You’re right. I need to go home.”
“I’ll miss you,” I say quietly. “Would you come to dinner here tomorrow?”
He drops his head back against the headrest and lets out a long breath.
“What?” I ask.
“Probably not a good idea. Parents don’t like me.”