Page 64 of Connected By Souls

Knowing how much her dad’s truck means to her, I smile. “You’re welcome.” I look out the window. “The wind and rain are picking up. We better hurry and get over there before the downpour comes.”

After she gets what she needs for the night, she follows me back to the house, and we get the vehicles in the garage just as the rain starts to pour harder. I take Nala out real quick and dry her off before feeding her dinner. “Have you eaten yet?” I ask, looking in the freezer.

“No, I was about to make something, but Skye called.” She sits down at the island.

“Frozen pizza, ok? I’ve been so busy that I didn’t plan dinner tonight.”

“Frozen pizza is fine, thanks.”

“Perfect. I’ll throw the pizza in if you want to pour us some wine.” I point to the wine bottles. “Take your pick of what you want. I’m going to jump in a quick shower. I’m too dirty from work to even sit down, and I’m all wet from taking Nala out.” I put the pizza in the oven and set the timer. “I’ll be right back,” I tell her as I jog up the stairs.

ChapterTwenty-Four

Emma

Watchinghim go up the stairs, my head, heart, and body are in a battle. My head is telling me to still be pissed because he didn’t tell me right away about being Beck. My heart is telling me he has a good reason and to forgive him. My body wants him, period.

Sighing, I get the wine glasses down and pour us two glasses. I grab my drink and sink into the sofa, watching the rain and wind fight a battle outside, mirroring the turmoil in me. I was really pissed at myself for wanting him so badly Friday night, but I’m like a moth attracted to a flame. Even if there’s a chance I’ll get burned, I’m unable to resist him.

Hearing him come down the stairs, I turn toward him. His hair is still wet from the shower, and he’s wearing those damn grey sweats that I’m starting to regret telling him is a turn-on of mine. I try not to think about him being bare underneath them. At least he’s wearing a t-shirt this time, even if it does cling to his body sinfully. “Nice pants.” I refrain from rolling my eyes and try to look bored.

Grinning wickedly, he says, “Well, someone once told me I looked insanely hot in them, and it’s a huge turn-on, so I didn’t want to disappoint.”

“Or someone is trying to distract me.”

“That too.” He grins.

Getting the pizza out of the oven, he begins to cut it. I go over and get us some plates and take a seat at the breakfast bar. “I checked the weather when I was upstairs, and there’s no change,” he says, sitting beside me. “Hopefully, it will lose some strength before it gets here early morning and be a Cat 1 or, even better, a tropical storm.”

Looking out the window, I can see the palms blowing and the rain pelting down on the pool. “Let’s hope for a tropical storm. I would hate to see any damage done to the town.”

“Me too, but we’ve prepared the best we can. It’s up to Mother Nature now.” He takes a bite of pizza. Nodding in agreement, I get a slice and start eating, knowing we have a long night ahead of us.

I put my plate in the dishwasher and help him clean up when I'm done. “Let’s go sit on the couch so we can talk.” He grabs the bottle of wine and glasses. “We’re going to need this,” he says with a soft laugh. He sets them on the coffee table and turns on the electric fireplace without the heat to make it cozy.

I sit on the couch beside him and hear him take a deep breath. I can tell he’s nervous—that makes two of us. I listen as he begins to talk.

“Ever since I was little, I’ve had these dreams. Dreams about a little girl with green eyes. We would play together in my dreams and have all these adventures together. I used to look forward to going to bed every night just so I could see her.” He smiles at the memory. “As I got older, the dreams became more intense, more real. We weren’t kids anymore, and we were very much in love. In my dreams, it was always the same girl. Her hair color might change, but her eyes were always the same beautiful green. I saw us get married, have a family, live in the mountains or by the sea, and even have nightmares where one of us is taken too soon. No matter what life we lived in my dreams, we were always together.”

Taking a sip of his wine, he continues. “The dreams became so real that I thought I was losing my mind. I could feel her, smell her, hell, I could even taste her so vividly that no other girl could compare to her in the real world. I dated a bit and had my fair share of one-night stands, trying to fill that void, but nobody came close to the girl in my dreams. She had my heart, and I didn’t know how to get it back,” he says, running his fingers through his hair.

“What did you do?” I’m not sure why my heart is pounding so hard.

“I finally decided I had to tell someone before I went insane. I got drunk one night and poured my heart out to Bella. She encouraged me to start writing down my dreams, that maybe it would help and be like some kind of therapy. She uh,” clearing his throat and looking nervous, “she told me that my dreams might be real. That they could be memories...past life memories. Because of my mom, I was familiar with past life stories being told. I just never thought about it happening to me. It made sense, though, why they would feel so real, so familiar.” I hear him take a deep breath before continuing. “Bella also told me that the girl in my dreams is probably my twin flame and that we’ve had several lifetimes together. She told me I was lucky to be able to remember them all,” he says quietly, looking at me and searching my face for any clue as to what I may be feeling.

Feeling his gaze pierce me, I rub my chest, suddenly feeling like I need more air. “I’ve read about twin flames before and how they’re two halves of one soul always searching for their other half to fill whole again.”

“Yes, they never feel fully whole without the other because they become one when they‘re together. Some twin flames make contracts or promises to always find each other in every lifetime, never wanting to do a life without the other. They learn and grow from each other because they mirror one’s self. I did a lot of research on this if you can’t tell.” He nervously laughs. “I needed to understand it and confirm that I wasn’t going crazy.”

“So what does this have to do with why you didn’t tell me who you were? Were you afraid I would be upset about your dreams and this girl?” I ask, confused and a little worried about where this is leading. I can’t compete with a twin flame.

“No, you’ve got it all wrong.” Sighing, he runs his hands down his face. “It’s hard for me to explain everything and get it right. I don’t want to mess it up.” He looks out the window, lost in thought, before continuing, “After I started writing down the dreams, it did help me. I felt lighter, and it helped me process everything because I was getting it out of my head and onto paper. The first dream I wrote down became my first book, one of my lifetimes. All the books I’ve written is one I have lived.” Looking me in the eyes, I feel my heart beat against my chest as his blue eyes plead with me to understand. “That we lived.”

“I.....I don’t understand.” I shake my head and try to comprehend what he’s saying.

“What do you feel when you read my books, Emma?” He asks softly.

“I…I feel connected to the characters. They’re familiar to me.”

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