He sat on the edge of the bed, closed his eyes.
She joined him and her hand landed softly on his back. “I’m sorry. I’ve been so focused on the thought of having to wait at least a year to see you again. I didn’t even think how it might affect you. That for you it might be longer. Or the next time you see me, it might not be 2010. I’m so selfish.”
“No, I’m the one who’s selfish.” He dropped his lips to her hair and inhaled the sweet scent. “The next time I see you, you’ll have moved on. I can’t take that.”
“Not a chance.”
“Kara, it could be another fifteen years. It could be never. I couldn’t bear to think you’d live your life hoping to see me at best once a year. If we make love—” He dropped his head.
She slid back on the bed and slipped under the covers. “You win. I get it. Just let me hold you.” Her arms reached for him.
His heart nearly ripped from his chest and he joined her under the covers. They wrapped their arms around each other and she drew one leg over his thigh. He felt safe, at home.
She rubbed her cheek on his chest. “I love holding you.”
“I love it, too.”
He lovedher.But knew saying it, or loving her, would make everything worse.
Her heartbeat penetrated his body as they clung together like hurricane victims. A hurricane would be a lesser threat. He’d never felt such happiness, such sadness. The duelling emotions overwhelmed his senses.
“Maybe if I hold hard enough I can keep you here.” She pressed her lips against his chin.
He smiled. “That’s a nice thought.”
“I’m serious. You kept my necklace – and nothing else – over thousands of jumps through time. That must mean something.”
He kissed her nose. He wanted to believe it, too. He really did. Holding on to the necklace couldn’t have been a coincidence. It was almost as if fate had pulled him through time since their first meeting. Pulled him to a year when Kara was single and ready tomeet him again as an adult, ready to save him, ready to make this all stop.
But thoughts like that only bred pain. The hope he’d felt on first finding her necklace added to his pockets’ inventory had drained away over hundreds of jumps, drawing with it his will to live. This time would be worse.
She stifled a yawn. “Promise me one thing?”
“If I can.”
“Promise me if we’re lucky enough to find each other again …” Her voice was growing softer, her words slowing. “Promise me that the next time you land in another year I’m alive, you’ll make love to me. Even if I’m ninety.”
“I don’t know.” He grinned. “Ninety?”
“You had your crack at twenty-nine tonight, buddy. You blew it.” She playfully pulled on his chest hair. “Now promise.”
“Only if you promise to live your life as if I don’t exist. Yo u can’t wait for me.”
“OK.” Her breath warmed his neck.
He’d make sure he didn’t live to break his side of the promise.
They held each other without speaking, and soon Kara’s breathing deepened, her body caving to the sleep it needed. He pressed his lips into her hair and watched the clock’s blue numbers glowing in the darkness. A digital clock, she’d called it.
She was right about one thing, he’d be crazy not to hold her for every last minute he possibly could. He would not fall asleep. He’d stay awake and watch the minutes flash by with her in his arms.
Although the impending dawn would force him back into that hideous suit and dump him into the park in some other century, he was going to stay conscious, anchored to her and this time as long as possible.
He’d tried staying awake many times before. Hadn’t worked. Neither had hopping a freight train to Florida.
Maybe tonight. Maybe if he stayed awake he’d remain here. Hope pierced the deep sadness filling his heart.
Two thirty-seven.
