Page 57 of Midnight Valentine
My eye roll is so extravagant, I might’ve popped something in my brain. Still chuckling, I relent. “Okay, Craig, you’re on. Dinner on Friday. Pick me up at six. And don’t make me regret this, I haven’t been on a date in a hundred years.”
His voice drops a notch. “I promise I won’t ever make you regret anything where I’m concerned, Megan. See you at six.”
He disconnects before I can say anything else.
I shake my head in disbelief, muttering, “Well, this should be interesting.”
When I turn around, Theo is standing still in the hallway, staring at the floor.
“Oh,” I say, startled to see him standing there. “Um…did you need me for something?”
Without looking at me, he pulls his cell phone from his pocket and types something into the keyboard. It comes through on my phone with a chime.
We’re done for the day.
“Oh, great. Okay. Anything I need to know?”
Theo lifts his head and looks at me. Really looks at me, his eyes searching my face. Slowly, he shakes his head no.
Something in his gaze elicits a powerful urge in me to run to him and throw my arms around his shoulders. The feeling is so strong, I have to physically restrain myself from moving my feet.
I know he overheard my call with Craig. How much he heard, I’m not sure, but judging by the expression on his face, he’s feeling some kind of way about it. Some major kind of way.
I whisper, “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
He doesn’t acknowledge I’ve spoken. He simply stares at me for a beat, then turns abruptly and disappears down the hallway, his boots thumping loudly against the wood floor.
I blow out a breath and press my hand over my heart. That does nothing to stop its frantic fluttering.
* * *
My insomnia that night is worse than usual. Despite my decision to keep things pure business between Theo and me, my mind runs on a hamster wheel, going over and over every look, text, and email that has passed between us, furiously trying to read between the lines of all that he doesn’t say.
Considering he’s mute, that’s a lot.
At midnight, I give up and rise from bed. I go stand at the patio windows and stare out at the ocean, which is as black as the sky. Neither has any answers for
the questions swirling in my head. I close my eyes and rest my forehead against the cold glass.
Cass. I wish you were here. I miss you. I love you. I still love you so goddamn much.
When I open my eyes, a figure has appeared out on the beach, standing in the darkness.
My heart hammering, I jerk back a step from the window. I can barely see the person because it’s so dark, but moonlight sifts between the clouds overhead, casting a ghostly glow on him, crowning his dark head in a halo of white. Whoever it is stands unmoving, hands by his sides, legs spread apart, staring up at the house. I move back to the window and flatten my hand against the glass.
I whisper, “Theo?”
The figure takes a single step forward.
All the tiny hairs on my body stand on end. My hands tremble, and I start to panic.
There’s no way on earth he could’ve heard me speak, yet, irrationally, I’m convinced he somehow knew his name left my lips, the way you sometimes feel a tug of recognition when you pass someone you’ve never met on the street. You know you’ve never seen them before, yet something tells you they’re not a total stranger. Something in their eyes sparks a sense of déjà vu.
Like maybe you met in another life.
“You don’t believe in kismet, Megan. You don’t believe in ghosts or fate or the tarot or any of that other nonsense. You’re a rational, intelligent person. You know he didn’t feel you call his name.”
Really? Try it again and see what happens.
