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  Michael leaned over me, one hand on either side of my body. “Promise.” He dropped his lips to touch mine lightly at first, and then he sunk deeper, pressing his chest against me. My arms moved around his neck automatically, pulling him closer. With a soft groan, he rolled over me, laying on the bed and never breaking the kiss. The heat between us built, and I ran my hands over Michael’s back, feeling the muscles that came from years of working at his family’s nursery.

  When Michael fell back onto the bed, we were both breathing heavily. In the wake of our separation, the physical relationship between us was still a little tentative. It was no less intense, but neither of us was ready to push the boundaries we had set from our earliest days together.

  I knew that most of Michael’s friends as well as the few people I’d gotten to know at the college assumed that Michael and I were more intimate than we actually were. It never occurred to them that a couple as committed and close as we seemed to be would not be sleeping together. And truthfully, it was sometimes hard for me to explain to myself. We had decided to take things slowly at the beginning of our relationship; neither of us had ever had a serious boyfriend or girlfriend before each other, and it was all new territory.

  Plus we were both what I thought of as good kids. We really wanted to please our parents, and we followed the rules. That began to change for me when I made the conscious decision not to tell my mom and dad that Michael knew about my mind hearing ability, and again when I didn’t share with them what I had heard in Nell’s thoughts. Since keeping that secret hadn’t turned out terribly well—and nearly cost me my life—it seemed like a good idea to try to follow my parents’ other rules. And no sex for teenagers was definitely one of those rules.

  Michael felt the same way, I knew. Luke and Marly, his parents, were two of the most amazing people I’d ever met, and neither of us wanted to disappoint them. They had forgiven me for breaking their son’s heart and had accepted me back into the family fold with incredible grace. The last thing I wanted to do was cause them any more grief.

  I turned on my side and lay my head on Michael’s chest. I could hear his heart thundering, and from his thoughts, I knew he was struggling with what he wanted versus what he thought was right.

  I skimmed my fingers along his chin, and his arm tightened around me. “Michael,” I ventured, “don’t you wonder sometimes if it’s worth it. . .holding back like this?” I couldn’t meet his eyes; talking about our physical relationship wasn’t easy for me, which was fairly ironic, considering that I was privy to Michael’s deepest thoughts.

  He didn’t answer right away. He stretched his back and brushed his hand over my hair.

  “Sure I do,” he said finally. His voice was husky and low, and I closed my eyes, listening against the background of his now-steady heartbeat. “I think about it. I know I want to be with you for the rest of my life, so why should we torture ourselves, waiting to do something we both want so much?”

  My breath caught, and I touched my lips to his neck, feeling a quickening of the pulse there that matched my own yearning.

  “But,” he continued, “one thing my mom and dad always said keeps coming back to me. They used to say that we—Lela and me—we should never do anything that might have consequences we couldn’t handle. Dad said there are enough surprises in life without risking it all on something that we knew ahead of time might be too much for us.”

  Silence settled between us as we both considered Luke’s advice. I knew he was right, but it would be a lot easier to agree with him when I wasn’t lying on Michael’s bed hearing and feeling every breath he drew.

  After a few moments, Michael swung his legs off the bed and sat up, easing me away from him with a kiss on my forehead. He leaned over me again and looked into my eyes.

  “Don’t ever for minute think it’s easy for me, though, Tas,” he whispered. “It’s not. But I love you. I want everything in your life to be as perfect as possible, and I’m willing to wait to make sure that happens.”

  I smiled up at him; I could feel the truth behind his words. “I believe you.”

  “Now, I think I’m going to grab a shower. Probably a nice cold shower.” He tossed me a rueful grin as he stood and began rooting through the dresser drawers. “Did you have anything planned for tonight for us?”

  I shook my head. “No, I thought we’d have dinner and then just hang out. Maybe watch a movie or something?”

  Michael closed the drawers and moved to the closet. “I was kind of thinking. . .there’s this party thing that the head of the botany department is giving tonight. He asked me to be there. Would you go with me?”

  Involuntarily I made a face. Hanging out with botany professors was not exactly my idea of a fun evening.

  Michael caught sight of my expression and laughed. “Don’t worry, we don’t have to stay long. But I think it’s important for us to go. First of all, Dr. Sorrel assigns the senior year internships. I want to get a good one around here, so I don’t have to be away from you. And second, the head of the committee that selects the winner of the Hamilton Award is going to be there, and Dr. Sorrel thinks I should meet him.”

  “The Hamilton Award?” I frowned, trying to remember if Michael had mentioned it.

  “Yes.” He finally found a shirt in his closet and, along with a pair of khakis, tossed it over the foot of the bed before he sat down next to me again. “The Hamilton Award could be very important to us. It’s a little while before I’ll qualify, but they start looking at candidates pretty early.”

  “And it’s important to us why?” I raised querying eyebrows.

  Michael picked up my hand and kissed it lightly. “Because if I won the Hamilton Award, I would be able to start on my master’s right after graduation. I could stay here at the college to get it. And you and I--” he shot me a quick but brilliant smile—“could live in married student housing for your senior year.”

  It only took me a moment to realize what he was saying. “We would—we could get married before I graduated?”

  Michael smiled again, but this time it was more tentative. He still held my hand, and he brought it up to his face, his eyes never leaving mine. If—if you want that. I don’t want to push. But that’s my plan. I want to marry you, Tasmyn, as soon as we reasonably can do it.

  My eyes filled with tears and I couldn’t answer him. Six months ago I couldn’t have dreamed that I’d be here, back with Michael, talking marriage and long term plans. Suddenly I felt tremendously blessed and humbled. I hadn’t done anything to deserve this—to deserve Michael—but here I was.

  Using my free hand, I pushed up to a sitting position and wrapped both arms around him. I whispered into his ear.

  “Nothing in the world would make me happier than to marry you, Michael Sawyer. As soon as we reasonably can do it.”

  Michael arrived at my dorm shortly before seven that evening. We had grabbed a fast dinner earlier, and then he had left me at Rollins Hall to dress for Dr. Sorrel’s party. He knew me well enough to realize that I needed plenty of primping time before I’d feel ready to go.

  My college wardrobe consisted mainly of jeans and t-shirts, with the occasional skirt or sundress, but my mother had insisted that I would need at least one sophisticated black dress. I was glad now that I had listened to her, because this dress was going to be perfect for tonight. It was the sort of thing that looked nice enough on the hanger, but once I had it on and zipped, it was spectacular. The front criss-crossed into a v-neck, low enough to make me look a bit older without showing too much skin. It fell into a skirt that skimmed my knees and made me appear just a little curvier than I actually was.

  I slipped my feet into strappy black heels. Around my neck I clasped Nana’s lovely pearls, a gift from my parents for my eighteenth birthday, and added the matching earrings that Michael had given me. The intense humidity of the summer months had subsided enough that my hair was still relatively straight; I left it down around my shoulders, as I knew Michael liked it tha
t way.

  I was just touching up my lipstick when Sophie came in from dinner. She raised her eyebrows and flashed me a smile.

  “Look at you! All dressed up for the big botany party.”

  I stuck out my tongue at her and she laughed. Her silky black hair swung around her perfectly shaped face, and I found myself envying her lovely skin and almond shaped dark eyes. It had surprised me when Sophie told me that she didn’t have a steady boyfriend and had never really dated seriously at all; I would have expected someone with her beauty and personality to be overwhelmed with male attention. But as I got to know her better, I realized that Sophie was focused only on her schoolwork. Her future was carefully laid out , and she wasn’t going to risk any boy messing up those plans.

  I understood that mindset, but I was happy that my own life plans included the most breathtakingly gorgeous boy I’d ever met.

  When Michael knocked at the door a few moments later, I was ready to go. He smiled his appreciation, raising his eyebrows meaningfully.

  “Wow,” he said. “No one’s going to be thinking about plants at this party once they see you.”

  “Too much?” I asked, frowning a little.

  “No!” He shook his head. “Not at all. You look amazing.”

  I grabbed a silky gold shawl against the possible chill of the evening and gave Sophie a wave and smile as Michael pulled me out the door. He held my hand as we hurried down the stairs and out into the darkness.

  Once beyond the lights of the dorm’s courtyard, Michael suddenly swung me around and against his chest. I gave an oomph of surprise as his mouth covered mine.

  So beautiful. Impossible to keep my hands off you. . .wonder how long we have to stay at this party. . .

  I giggled against his mouth. “I share your sentiments,” I whispered, gasping a little as his lips nibbled down my neck. “But don’t you think we should actually go to the party before we worry about leaving?”

  “Hmmm.” Michael moved his hands up and under my hair, holding my head still so that he could more easily plunder my mouth. Dizziness overcame me, and I began wondering hazily if there wasn’t a secluded patch of grass nearby where we could be really alone.

  Michael grasped me by the shoulders and pushed me slightly away. Eyes closed, he muttered, “Botany party. Dr. Sorrel. Big picture.”

  “Big picture,” I agreed, but I was still a little wobbly, and Michael had to hold my arm as we walked down the path to the parking lot and climbed into the Mustang.

  The party was at Dr. Sorrel’s home. The white clapboard house was just off campus on a quiet street. Michael told me that several professors lived in the neighborhood. The tasteful yet simple homes reminded me of the area of King where Rafe Brooks lived, but I didn’t say that aloud. Rafe and his family were still a subject that was definitely off-limits, at least in my mind.

  There were a few cars in the driveway and along the curb when we pulled up. Michael parked the Mustang a little further up the block and jumped out to open my door. I fussed with my dress for a minute, stalling.

  “Hey.” Michael touched the side of my face, smiling. “You look amazing. Just relax and be yourself.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You sound like my parents before every new school I started.”

  Michael sighed and grabbed my hand. “Come on. Let’s go in so you can see that it’s going to be fine.”

  Mrs. Sorrel, a short, round woman with cropped black hair, answered the door, smiling warmly as she greeted Michael. “And you must be our Michael’s young lady!” she beamed. “Oh, he’s told us all about you. And aren’t you just lovely!”

  I blushed. “Thank you. Your home is beautiful. It’s very nice of you to have us.”

  She waved away my words. “Not at all. Donald and I love to have young people around, and of course, he just raves about Michael here. Come in and meet everyone.”

  I stuck close behind Michael, clinging to his hand as he led me into the living room. There were several other students, easily identified by their youth, and a few professors I recognized from campus.

  I didn’t expect to know anyone there, so when an odd familiar tingling built at the back of my head and static filled my mind, I instinctively gripped Michael’s hand a little tighter. He turned to look at me, and his gaze stuck a few inches above my head. His mouth tightened slightly, and I felt an unfamiliar mix of recognition and uneasiness sweeping over him.

  I swiveled my head back and up, looking into a pair of deep blue eyes. For a moment, I felt oddly off-kilter, as though someone had tilted the house and I couldn’t quite stay on my feet. Michael shifted me slightly so that I was leaning against his chest, his arm secure around my waist and his hand still holding mine.

  “Hello, Cathryn,” he said, and I remembered. Cathryn Whitmore had been a teaching assistant for one of Michael’s classes last year. We had met very briefly at the homecoming dance, right before my life began to unravel.

  “Michael.” Those perfect lips curved into a warm smile, and she reached out a graceful hand to touch his arm. “I was hoping to see you tonight.”

  “What are you doing here?” The amazement in his voice made the comment less rude than it might have sounded. Clearly he was as surprised to see her as I was.

  Her smiled deepened, and impulsively I dropped my mental block and reached toward her mind. The roar of white noise made me hiss in pain, and I hunched my shoulders against the onslaught.

  Michael glanced down at me with concern. I shook my head slightly. Cathryn didn’t acknowledge me at all.

  “I changed my mind about the research job. I was all set to leave, to move to Atlanta, when the alumni association offered me the liason position. I’m doing a little work for Dr. Sorrel, too. That’s partly why I’m here tonight.”

  Michael nodded. “That’s good.” He brushed his lips lightly over my hair. “Cathryn, you remember Tasmyn? You met last year.”

  Finally Cathryn dropped her eyes to mine. The warmth there for Michael clearly didn’t extend to me, but she managed a fairly cordial nod.

  “And what are you doing up here, Tasmyn? I thought you were still in high school.” The subtle challenge beneath the snide comment didn’t escape my notice.

  I pasted on a smile that was just as insincere as hers. “I graduated last May. I’m a freshman here at Perriman.”

  “Really.” Cathryn was able to imbue that one word with an amazing combination of condensation and dismissal. “How nice for you.” She turned her attention back to Michael. “I was hoping maybe you would help with some of my work for Dr. Sorrel. I could use a really fabulous assistant, and you remember how well we work together.”

  Being ignored was one thing, but having a gorgeous older woman flirt outrageously with my boyfriend while I stood right in front of him was too much for me. Before I could control it, a flare of fury shot out, and a crystal candy dish on the end table next to me flew into the air and shattered against the wall.

  The room was silent. Heat flooded my face, and I opened my mouth to apologize. But before I could say a word, Michael spoke.

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Sorrel. I didn’t see that there and I must have gestured a little too dramatically. Here, let me clean it up.”

  Conversation resumed as Mrs. Sorrel hurried over to us. Michael knelt to carefully pick up the larger pieces from the polished oak floor, and I wished I could sink into the ground. I wondered if anyone else had noticed what had really happened, and without considering consequences, I dropped all my guards and began filtering through the thoughts in the room.

  My, what a mess. . .hope it wasn’t expensive. . .poor boy, how embarrassing for him. . .Leslie is handling it well, a good hostess. . .

  And then my mind encountered that loud static again. This time, instead of mentally running from it, I pushed through the pain and into Cathryn Whitmore’s mind.

  The noise grew louder, and I felt resistance. Determined, I pushed harder, and for just a moment, I picked up few stray words and fleeting image
s. Then the volume increased again, along with the anger, and I actually reeled backwards against the wall. Through the cacophony, I heard four distinct words.

  Don’t mess with me.

  Michael stood up, handing a brush and dustpan back to Mrs. Sorrel, who was waving away his apologies. She disappeared through a doorway that I assumed led to the kitchen. Michael smiled at me, telegraphing his reassurance and telling me through careful and well-enunciated thought that it was all right.

  “See you later, Cathryn,” he said, taking my hand again. “We’ve got to say hello to Dr. Sorrel.” With that, we turned and moved across the room. I could feel Cathryn’s annoyance, but I didn’t look back.

  The rest of the party passed quickly. We made small talk with Dr. Sorrel, and he introduced us to Mr. Tyler, the head of the Hamilton award committee. He was an easy man to read, and so I knew that Michael had made a wonderful first impression. All I had to do was smile and nod and pretend to know what they were all talking about. I performed perfectly.

  Outside, we didn’t speak until we were in the Mustang with the doors closed and windows up. As he pulled away from the curb, Michael slid a glance at me.

  “So. . .what was that all about?”

  I sighed and shook my head. “Cathryn Whitmore. There’s something about her. Do you remember when I first met her at the dance? I couldn’t hear her. I mean, her mind was just static.”

  Michael’s lips tightened. “I remember. Was it the same this time?”

  “Yeah, only more so. I tried to push a little, to read her, and she pushed back. I’ve never really heard anything like that—except with—with Marica.” I stumbled over the name, not wanting to bring up that subject tonight.

  “And that’s what broke the candy dish?” Michael was working to keep his tone neutral, but I knew he was worried.

  “No. That was me being annoyed that she thought she could flirt with my boyfriend right in front of me.”