Page 45 of Intersect
His tongue pokes inside his cheek. “About that,” he says. “It’s nothing to worry about, but I got placed on administrativeleave.”
I gasp. “What?”
“It’s fine. Jeff complained to the board. I knew it would happen even before I hit him, and I just didn’t care. I stilldon’t.”
I feel sick. It really happened, just like Jeff said it would. “God. I’m so sorry,” I whisper, pressing my face to his chest. “Tell me what to do. I’ll give a sworn statement that we were childhood friends. I’ll swear we’re nottogether.”
He gives me a half-smile. “It’s going to be fine. If they fire me, they fire me. I’ll find anotherjob.”
“It’s not fine. You really think I can’t tell when you’reupset?”
“It’s not about the job,” he says, sighing into my hair. He places his hands on my shoulders, holding me in place. “I went to your aunt’s house. When I told you I had some stuff to do at thehospital.”
My jaw drops along with my stomach. “How could you do that? Oh my God. Do you realize how badly it could havegone?”
His mouth curves into an almost-smile. “I’m 6’5” and she’s not any bigger than you. What exactly do you think she could have done to me? Anyway, she wasn’t there. I found a key under the mat at the back of her houseand—”
“Oh my God,” I groan, staring at the ceiling. “Please tell me you didn’t breakin.”
“I didn’t have to break in. There was a key, remember? But my point is that I found her planner…and she’s gone. She flew to Paris lastnight.”
“Oh.” I’m not sure what I thought it would accomplish, going after her. But that it’s all amounted to nothing knocks the air from my lungs. “Wait. Why the hell would a time traveler need tofly? Couldn’t she just, like,wishherselfthere?”
“I have no idea. Maybe there are rules. Maybe she just sucks at it. We know nothing. Which is why I’m going toParis.”
I stiffen. “No.”
“It’s our only chance,” he says, placing his palm against my cheek. “I have no idea how your tumor is going to progress, but we may not have time to wait for her to getback.”
“Then I’ll come withyou.”
“You can’t,” he says softly. “God forbid, but what if you had a medical emergency halfway over the Atlantic? You might need oxygen. You might need…Jesus, there’s so much you might need if it happens again that I can’t stand to think about it. And they can’t do an emergency landing in the middle of the ocean. It’s just for a day ortwo.”
I stare at him, feeling completely helpless. I know I can’t dissuade him, but I still have to try. “She’s insane, Nick, and she can time travel. What are you going to do when she vanishes and appears behind you with a loaded gun? Use your medal-winning butterfly stroke to disarmher?”
He pushes the hair back behind my ear. “I’m so in love with you I can’t even breathe when I imagine you not here, and I’ll never be able to live with myself if I don’t at least try to find her. So don’t ask it ofme.”
I meet his gaze. His desperate, determined gaze. There is not a thing I can say to stop him. I press my forehead to his chest, trying to stave off tears. “When?”
“I’ve got a ticket on the six o’clock direct flight out of Dulles tomorrow. Tonight’s was alreadyfull.”
A sob swells in my throat and I can’t contain it. “These could be our last hours together,” Iwhisper.
“Don’t,” he says. His palms hold my face. “Don’t even thinkit.”
“But—”
His mouth closes on mine, stopping my words but not my thoughts or my desperation. The kiss is hard, punishing, as if it can somehow make the truth other than what it is, and my fervor matches his, fueled by the knowledge it might never happenagain.
I’m still crying, even as need coils tight in my stomach. My hands tug at the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head. My fingers are greedy. It’s not enough for them to trail over his shoulders, his biceps, his chest. They want to absorb him, consume himwhole.
He grabs my ass and yanks me against him, hard, groaning as his mouth descends to my neck. My shirt is removed, my bra is released with a quick flick of his fingers. That old voice, the one that warns about the consequences of going too far, is silent. I no longer care what it means to give him everything. How could it possibly matter at this point, when it might be our lastchance?
My shorts slide to the floor, and his follow, his hands clenched with need as they pull my hips toward him again. “Quinn,” he growls. “I need more. I’m not going to stop thistime.”
“I don’t want youto.”
He lifts me onto the couch and is above me in seconds, fingers slick between my legs, confirming what I already know: I’m so ready for this. Beyondready.