Endless (3 page)

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 that 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.