16. Cori
Cori
H is hand was still touching her wrist, lingering there. She allowed her magic to surface, finding his aura—full of heavy, smoky need.
His gaze, deep and blue as the water swirling around them, dipped down to her mouth, and the heaviness between them grew, wrapping around her in a way that made her want to simultaneously lunge for him and dive into the water to escape.
When a vision of his eyes had wafted into her dreams, she would awaken breathless and warm as though something inside her had been stirred. The heaviness of his aura pierced through her, cracking something open that felt familiar yet new, waiting to take root.
She had always been in tune to the people around her, sensing their emotions, even their intentions like whispers on the wind. Most of the time, this power felt like a burden, but at this moment, she was fed by his energy. It flowed out of him with an intensity that she couldn’t help but drink in. He angled his head toward her, his lips dangerously close to hers. The water surged again under the boat, the dizzying force of his magic surrounding her.
But this—this was like nothing she had felt before. She couldn’t just sense his aura , she could sense his magic , and for a fleeting moment, the weight of the tide itself rose in her blood. She realized she had been holding her breath as panic gripped her and she broke the physical connection between them, pulling her wrist from his hand as she pulled back in her seat.
He shivered as the tether between them broke, and her heart nearly stopped. Holy Mother, did he feel it, too?
His lips parted, trying to formulate his words. “We should head back,” he said after a moment. The sun had dipped below the trees, the sky pink and streaked with clouds, as it gave in to the late afternoon.
She nodded quickly, but a part of her, the part that was connected to her instinct and her heart, wanted to float there on the water with him forever, leaving all the uncertainty of the past three thousand days behind her.
She smoothed her hair hastily into a ponytail and pulled her sweatshirt around her shoulders.
He gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white. “Do you mind if I drive?” he asked.
She nodded again, her voice betraying her with the inability to make a sound.
He pulled the key from the ignition and handed it to her. The boat surged under them, the power of the water propelling them toward the shore.
Auggie and Seth were perched on the crates in front of a portable television, beer cans strewn at their feet, as they watched the Red Sox game.
Auggie’s filthy shirt was wrapped around his neck, his wrinkled skin browned and withering over what probably used to be very muscular shoulders. A cigar dangled from his mouth as he slammed his open hand onto the side of the boat. “That was a strike,” he grunted.
“Mind the paint, old man,” Seth said absent-mindedly, as he stood up to get a better look at the replay. Auggie glowered at him. “How were the driving lessons?” He cocked his head toward Adrian.
“Good. She didn’t need me at all,” Adrian said smoothly, rubbing a hand through his hair.
She swallowed a lump in her throat. Maybe she needed him, but not in the way he meant.
“Well, even though my brother’s a dumbass, I’m glad you came to help us,” Seth laughed. “If it wasn’t for you, it would’ve taken us twice as long to weatherproof the boards.”
“Yeah, we appreciate it,” Adrian said slowly. His eyes connected to her for a moment before he gazed down at the electrical cord still draped in the pool of gasoline. Fire isn’t usually a problem for me—unless it’s an electrical fire.
The pit of her stomach tightened and turned over. The heat of Adrian’s aura had cooled now, replaced by something she couldn’t quite place.
“Ayuh’ we do appreciate yer,” Auggie said gruffly. “The young lady came out here today to help you out—hard tellin’ not knowin’ why,” he continued. “Least you can do is take her out to a drink, ya ungrateful bastards.”