My Soul To Take Part 5

"With no obvious cause of death." Nash glanced at the bag in my lap. "Are you gonna finish that?"

I handed him the burger, but his words still echoed in my mind. He'd hit the nail on the head with that one-and driven it straight into my heart. Heidi and Alyson had both literally dropped dead with no warnings, no illness and no wounds of any kind. And I'd known Heidi's death was coming.

If I'd been there when Alyson Baker was ordering her popcorn, would I have known she was about to die?

And if I had, would telling her have done any good?

I scooted back on the bed and drew my knees up to my chest as my guilt over Heidi's death swelled within me like a sponge soaking up water. Had I let her die?

Nash dropped the empty burger wrapper into the bag and swiveled in the desk chair to face me. He frowned as he looked at my expression and leaned forward to gently push my legs down, so he could see my face. "There's nothing you could have done."

Were my thoughts that obvious? I couldn't summon a smile, even with his dimples and late-night stubble only inches away. "You don't know that."

His mouth formed a hard line for a moment, like he might argue, but then he smiled slyly, and his gaze locked onto mine. "What I do know is that you need to relax. Think about something other than death." His voice was a gentle rumble as he moved from the chair to sit next to me on the bed, and the mattress sank beneath his weight.

My breath hitched in antic.i.p.ation, and my pulse raced. "What should I be thinking about?" My own voice came out lower, my words so soft I could barely hear them.

"Me," he whispered back, leaning forward so that his lips brushed my ear as he spoke. His scent enveloped me, and his cheek felt scratchy against mine. "You should be thinking about me." His fingers intertwined with mine in my lap, and he pulled away from my ear slowly, his lips skimming my cheek, deliciously soft in contrast to the sharp stubble. He dropped a trail of small kisses along my jaw, and my heart beat harder with every single one.

When he reached my chin, the kisses trailed up until his mouth met mine, gently sucking my lower lip between his. Teasing without making full contact. My chest rose and fell quickly, my breaths shallow, my pulse racing.

More...

He heard me. He must have. Nash pulled back just long enough to meet my gaze, heat blazing behind his eyes, and I realized that he was breathing hard too. His fingers tightened around mine and his free hand slid into the hair at the base of my skull.

Then he kissed me for real.

My mouth opened beneath his, and the kiss went deeper as I drew him in, suddenly ravenous for something I'd never even tasted. My fingers tightened around his, and my free hand found his arm, exploring the hard planes, reveling in the potential of such restrained strength.

Nash pulled back then and looked at me, deep need smoldering behind his eyes. The intensity of that need-the staggering depth of his longing-slammed into me like a wave on the side of a ship, threatening to knock me overboard. To toss me into that turbulent sea, where the current would surely carry me away.

His finger traced my lower lip, his gaze locked onto mine, and my mouth opened, ready for his again.

His hesitance was a terrible mercy. I could barely breathe with him touching me, so overwhelmed was I by...everything. But he smelled so good, and felt so good, I didn't want him to stop, even if I never breathed again.

This time I kissed him, taking what I wanted, delighted and astonished by his willingness to let me. My head was so full of Nash I wasn't sure I'd ever think about anything else again....

Until the bedroom door opened.

Nash jerked back so fast he left me gasping in surprise. I blinked, slowly struggling up from the wave of sensations I wanted to ride again. My cheeks flamed as I smoothed my ponytail.

"Dinner, huh?" Ms. Hudson stood in the doorway, arms crossed over her chest, a fresh smear of chocolate on the hem of her shirt. She frowned at us, but didn't look particularly angry or surprised.

Nash rubbed his face with both hands. I sat there, speechless, and more embarra.s.sed than I'd ever been in my life. But at least we'd been caught by his mother, rather than my uncle. That, I would never have recovered from.

"Let's leave the door open for real this time, huh?" She turned to leave, but then her gaze caught on the computer screen, where Alyson Baker's picture still stared out at the room. Something dark flickered across her face-fear, or concern? - then her expression hardened as she leveled it at her son.

"What are you two doing?" she demanded softly, obviously no longer referring to our social interaction.

"Nothing." Nash's expression carried just as much weight as his mother's had, but I couldn't read anything specific in his, though the tension in the room spiked noticeably.

"I should go." I stood, already digging my keys from my pocket.

"No." Nash took my hand.

Ms. Hudson's expression softened. "You really don't have to," she said. "Stay and have some cookies. Just leave the door open." She eyed Nash on that last part, and tension drained from the air as her frown melted.

Nash rolled his eyes but nodded. Then they both turned to me, waiting for my answer.

"Thanks, but I have some homework to finish...." And Nash's mother had just caught us making out on his bed, which felt very much like the end of the night to me.

Nash walked me to my car and kissed me again, his body pressing mine into the driver's side door, our hands intertwined. Then I drove home in a daze and floated straight to my room, ignoring every less-than-subtle hint for information Sophie tossed my way. And only later would I realize that I had, in fact, forgotten all about the dead girls and was still thinking about Nash when I fell asleep.

CHAPTER 5.

"Insider out?" Nash set his tray on the nearest table and dug in his pocket. Coins jingled, barely audible over the clatter of silverware and the buzz of several dozen simultaneous conversation, and he pulled out a handful of change, already turning toward the soda machine.

The autumn morning had dawned clear and cool, but by third period, it was warm enough for my biology teacher to open the windows in the lab and vent the acrid scent of chemical preservatives. "Out." Lunch in the quad sounded good to me, especially considering the swarm of student bodies in the cafeteria, and the dozen or so people who had already noticed his fingers curled around mine in the pizza line.

Including his latest ex, who now glared at me from within a coc.o.o.n of hostile cheerleader clones. I glanced over my shoulder at Emma, who nodded. "I'll get a table." She turned and dodged a freshman carrying three ice-cream bars, who almost knocked her tray from her hands.

"Sorry," he mumbled, then stopped to watch her, his expression a blend of blatant l.u.s.t and longing. Emma didn't even notice.

Nas pulled two c.o.kes from the machine and set one on my tray, then we wove our way around two tables to the center aisle, headed straight for the exit. I could practically feel the eyes of my cla.s.smates trained on my back, and it was everything I could do not to squirm beneath their scrutiny. How could he stand people watching him all the time?

We were two feet from the double doors leading into the quad when they swung open, only inches from smacking into my tray. A gaggle of slim girls in matching letterman jackets brushed past u, several pausing to smile at Nash. One even ran her fingers down his sleeve, and I was startled by the sudden, irrational urge to slap her hand away. Which proved unnecessary when he walked past her with nothing but a distracted nod.

Sophie was the only one who even glanced my way, and her expression could hardly be considered friendly. Until it landed on Nash. She let her arm brush his as she pa.s.sed, glancing up into his eyes, a carnal smile turning up one corner of her perfectly made-up mouth in blatant, unspoken invitation.

Seconds later, the dancers were gone, leaving behind a cloud of perfume strong enough to burn my eyes. I stomped through the still-open doors and down the steps. Nash jogged to catch up with me. He carried his tray in one hand, and his opposite arm snaked around my waist, fingers curling around my hip with an intimate familiarity that made my pulse spike. "She's just trying to p.i.s.s you off."

"She says she's been in your backseat." I couldn't keep suspicion from my tone. Yes, his hand on my hip made a very public statement, and that-along with his silence on the matter of my mental health-finally put to rest my stubborn fear that he'd planned a quick hookup over the weekend, and would be done with me by Monday.

But Nash had never even tried to deny the rumors of his past exploits, and I couldn't stand the thought that Sophie had been one of them.

"What?" He stopped in the middle of the quad, frowning down at me in obvious confusion.

"The back of your car. She says there's a rip in your backseat and wants me to think she's seen it up close."

Nash chuckled softly and started walking again as he spoke, so that I had no choice but to follow. "Um...yeah. She put it there. She was wrecked the night I took her home, and she threw up all over the front floorboard. I put her in the back, and she got some stupid buckle on her shoe caught in the st.i.tching and ripped it loose."

I laughed, and my anger melted like Sophie's makeup in July. In fact, I almost felt sorry for her-but not too sorry to dangle that little nugget of information in front of my cousin the next time she flirted with Nash in front of me.

The quad was actually a long rectangle, surrounded on three sides by various wings of the school building, with the cafeteria entrance on the end of one long wall. The fourth side opened up to the soccer and baseball practice fields at the rear of the campus.

Emma had claimed a table in the far corner, mostly sheltered from the wind by the junction of the language and science halls. I sat on the bench opposite her, and Nash slid in next to me. His leg touched mine from hip to knee, which was enough to keep me warm from the inside out, in spite of the chilly, intermittent breeze at my back.

"What's with the dance team?" Emma asked as I bit the point off my slice of pizza. "They came through here a minute ago, squealing and bouncing around like someone poured hot sauce in their leotards."

I laughed and nearly choked on a chunk of pepperoni. "They won the regional championship on Sat.u.r.day. Sophie's been insufferable ever since."

"So how long will they be squeaking like squirrels?"

Holding up one finger, I chewed and swallowed another bite before answering. "The state championship is next month. After that, there will either be more irrepressible squealing, or inconsolable tears. Then it's over until May, when they audition for next year's team." Regardless, I would mourn the end of the compet.i.tion season right along with Sophie. Dance-team practices took up most of her spare time for several months of the year, giving me some much-coveted peace and quiet while she was out of the house.

And, as spoiled and arrogant as she was, Sophie was totally dedicated to the team. She gave the other dancers more respect than she'd ever seen fit to waste on me, and the dedication and punctuality she showed them were the only evidence I'd seen in thirteen years that she had a single responsible bone in that infuriatingly graceful body.

Plus, most of her teammates could drive, and someone always seemed willing to give her a ride. After the state championship, Sophie would go back to daily ballet cla.s.ses, and now that I had a car, I was fairly certain her parents would make me drive her to and from. Like I had nothing better to do with my time. And my gas money.

"Well, here's hoping we all go deaf either way." Emma held her bottled water aloft, and Nash and I clinked our cans into it. "So..." She screwed the lid back on her bottle. "Heard anything new about that girl from Arlington?"

Nash frowned, his brows lowered over eyes more brown than green at the moment.

"Yeah." I dropped the remains of my pizza onto my tray and picked up a bruised red apple. "Her name was Alyson Baker. Happened just like Jimmy said. She fell over dead, and the cops have no idea what killed her."

"Was she drinking?" Emma asked, obviously thinking about Heidi Anderson.

"Nope. She wasn't on anything either." Nash gestured with the crust of his first slice. "But she has nothing to do with the first, right?" He glanced my way, brows raised now in question. "I mean, you didn't predict this one. You never even saw her, right?"

I nodded and took the first bite out of my apple. He was right, of course.

But there was an obvious connection between the two girls: they were both dead with no apparent cause. The local news knew that. Emma knew it. I knew it. Only Nash seemed oblivious. Or at least uninterested.

Emma pointed at him with the business end of a plastic fork, her porcelain face twisted into an equally beautiful mask of disbelief. "So you don't think it's weird that two girls have dropped dead in the past two days?"

He sighed and pulled the tab from his empty soda can, watching it, rather than either of us. "I never said it wasn't weird. But I don't get this morbid obsession you two have with those poor girls. They're gone. You didn't know either of them. Let them rest in peace."

I rolled my eyes and peeled the vendor's sticker from my apple. "We're not disturbing their rest."

"And it's not obsession-it's caution," Emma countered, aiming her water bottle at him like a conductor's baton. "No one knows how they died, and I'm not buying the coincidence angle. That could be either one of us tomorrow." Her gaze turned my way, clearly including me among the potential victims of...um...dropping dead for no reason. "Or any one of them." She nodded toward the cafeteria, and I turned to see Sophie and several of her friends bounce down the steps in the company of half a dozen jocks in matching green-and-white jackets.

"You're totally overreacting." Nash pushed his tray away and twisted on the bench to face us both. "It's just a weird coincidence that has nothing to do with us."

"What if it's not?" I demanded, and even I recognized the pain in my voice. I couldn't let go of the possibility that I could have helped. Could maybe have saved Heidi, if I'd only said something. "No one knows what happened to those girls, so you can't possibly know it won't happen again."

Nash closed his eyes, as if gathering his thoughts. Or maybe his patience. Then he opened them and looked at first Emma, then me. "No, I don't know what happened to either of them, but the cops will figure it out sooner or later. They probably died of totally different, completely unrelated illnesses. An aneurism, or a freak teenage heart attack. And I'll bet you my Xbox that they have nothing to do with each other."

His eyes narrowed on mine then, and he took my hand in both of his. "And they have nothing to do with you."

"Then how did she know it was going to happen?" Emma stared at us both, brown eyes wide. "Kaylee knew that first girl was going to die. I'd say that makes her pretty deeply involved."

"Okay, yes." Nash turned from me to glare at her. "Kaylee knew about Heidi. That's weird, and creepy, and sounds like the plot from some cheesy horror movie-"

"Hey!" I elbowed Nash, and he shot me a dimpled grin.

"Sorry. But she asked. My point is that your premonition is the only weird part of this. The rest is just coincidence. A total fluke. It's not going to happen again."

I pulled my hand from his grasp. "What if you're wrong?"

Nash frowned and ran his fingers through his artfully mussed hair, but before he could answer, a hand dropped onto my shoulder and I jumped.

"Trouble in paradise?" Sophie asked, and I looked up to find her beaming at Nash over my head.

"Nope. We're all shiny and happy here, thanks," Emma said when I couldn't unclench my teeth long enough to reply.

"Hey, Hudson." A green-sleeved arm slid around Sophie's shoulders, and I found myself staring at Scott Carter, the first-string quarterback and my cousin's current plaything. "Makin' new friends?"

Nash nodded. "You know Emma, right?"

Carter's jaw tightened as his eyes settled on my best friend. He knew her, all right. Emma had turned him down cold over the summer, then dumped a Slushie on his shirt at the Cinemark when he refused to take the hint. If anyone other than Jimmy had been working with her, she'd probably have been reported and fired.

Nash's hand curled around mine. "And this is Kaylee."

Carter's eyes turned my way, for probably the first time ever, and his smile returned as his gaze traveled from my face to the front of my shirt. Which he could probably see straight down, since he was standing. "Sophie's sister, right?"

"Cousin," Sophie and I said in unison. It was the only thing we agreed on.

"Hey, we're taking my dad's boat out on White Rock Lake Friday night. You two should come."

"She can't." Sophie sneered at me, curling her arm through Carter's. "She has to work."

As if it were a dirty word. Though personally, after what Emma had to say about him, I'd rather spend all night sc.r.a.ping gum from the underside of theater chairs than spend one minute on Carter's father's boat.

"We'll catch you next time," Nash said, and Carter nodded as Sophie tugged him toward a table at the front of the quad, already swarming with green-and-white jackets.

"Wow." Emma whistled softly. "He is such a d.i.c.k. He just looked down your shirt with Sophie and Nash both standing there. That's a jock for you."

"We're not all bad," Nash said, but he looked distinctly unamused by both Carter's optical invasion and Emma's commentary on it.

Without his teammates around, it was easy to forget that Nash played football. Baseball too. What could he possibly want with me, while girls like Sophie were standing in line to drool all over him?

"Don't you usually sit over there?" I asked, nodding toward the green-and-white bee swarm. We'd sat with the jocks earlier in the year, when Emma was going out with one of the linebackers, but honestly, the noise and constant posturing got on my nerves.

"You two are much better company." Nash grinned, pulling me closer, but for once, I barely noticed. Something in that crowd of matching jackets had snagged my attention. Something felt...wrong.

Nooo...! It couldn't happen again! Nash had said it wouldn't!

But already the first tendrils of panic were p.r.i.c.kling the inside of my flesh.

The edges of my vision went dark, as if death hovered just out of sight. My heart hammered. My skin tingled, and my hands curled into fists. Nash flinched and pulled his hand from mine. I'd forgotten I was holding it and had drawn blood from his palm.