Eternity by Heather Terrell Page A

us.”
    He leaned toward me again and, for a fleeting moment, I wished he would kiss me. Until I reminded myself who he was and who I was.
    Instead, Rafe lightly caressed my cheek—more like a brother this time—and said, “Maybe I can do one last thing. . . .”

Chapter Twenty
     
    I stood in the backyard outside Michael’s house, staring up at his bedroom window. I didn’t dare fly up to his room, even though there didn’t seem to be much reason to hide my powers anymore. Pretending to be normal hadn’t stopped the end days. Yet Rafe had asked that I refrain for a bit longer, and I couldn’t refuse the request of an angel.
    Instead, feeling like some kind of lovesick Shakespearean character, I threw a pebble at Michael’s window. His face instantly appeared through the glass. At first, he merely looked startled to see me. Then I saw anger and confusion pass across his face like a storm cloud. When I motioned for him to come outside, I feared that he’d refuse. But he didn’t; he left the window and headed downstairs.
    Michael stepped out onto his porch. Even in the darkness, I could see the sheen of his white-blond hair and the outline of his broad shoulders. In my mind’s eye, I filled in the details of his green eyes and sculpted arms and chest. I longed for him. I wanted my Michael back, the soul mate with whom I spent long nights flying and talking and kissing and sharing everything. Those nights were the happiest of my life, and now they seemed a lifetime away.
    I waited as Michael closed the back door quietly behind him. He hesitantly crossed the yard and approached the tree I stood under. Drawing near me, he still didn’t reach out to hug or kiss me as he usually did. The distance between us made me incredibly sad. It was depressing what had happened to our relationship over the course of a few short weeks.
    I was determined to put all this baffling discord behind us, and not only because Rafe asked me to. I had even vowed not to mention the infuriating use of his powers on the football field. Reaching out to embrace him, I said, “I’m sorry we fought.”
    Michael’s body stiffened at first. Slowly, I felt his body soften and then relent. He wrapped his arms around me. “Me too.”
    I luxuriated in the circle of his arms for a few long minutes. The yearning for Michael and his blood started to build, and I pulled back a tiny bit. Enough to study his eyes. I needed to make sure that my Michael inhabited them, not that scary automaton he’d become under Ezekiel’s influence or the withdrawn, confusing football player he’d become recently.
    I was relieved. In his incandescent green eyes, I saw only the Michael I loved.
    “I’m not sure what happened earlier today. I—” I started to say.
    Michael interrupted me. “I’m the one that’s been acting like a jerk. I’ve been so caught up in—”
    It was my turn to quiet him. I traced my finger over the curve of his full lips and said, “You don’t have to explain, Michael. We’ve both been caught up.”
    “Not like me, Ellie. I’ve been so wrapped up with football and Coach Samuel. More than ever before. Not like I was with Ezekiel—I promised you that would never happen again—but definitely distracted. I mean, I even allowed myself to stay after the game with the coach to run through plays, instead of meeting you and Ruth, even when I knew she had important news. Then I ignored your calls because I was still pissed that you made fun of me playing football.” He shook his head in disbelief at his own actions. “I have no excuse, only an apology.”
    Looking into the anguish and remorse on his face, I knew I’d been right not to chastise him for using his powers in the game. Michael was already beating himself up for his behavior; he didn’t need me to berate him also.
    I hugged him tighter, and said, “There is no need to apologize. Not anymore. We’re together again.”
    He squeezed me so hard that I could hardly breathe.