A smile spreads wide across my face. I will never get tired of hearing those words.
“I do know that.”
“Good.” He grins wickedly, one hand sliding down to squeeze my ass and pull me closer. “I promise to prove it later at your place.”
I playfully push him off, feigning a frown at his public display, but we both know I enjoyed it as much as he did. We settle the details of my babysitting duty, and he heads off to his next class, and me to mine.
“Tonight,” he promises again, but I know my levels are too high to sleep with him tonight. Not unless I find some time in the day to meet up with one of my artists. A night together typically raises my energies by four levels, more if it’s, um, a long night, and that’s only if I can manage to sneak out of bed in the middle of the night and sleep on the couch for while, and then return before he wakes. If I actually spend the night in his arms, it can raise as much as six levels.
But since I’m picking up Gwen from school after my classes, I doubt I’ll be able to find an opportunity to release any of the energy before I see Wilder again this evening. I’ll have to make some excuse. Pretend to not be feeling well or something similar.
It’s not an ideal situation, but I’m managing better than I could have ever hoped. In the few weeks we’ve been seeing each other, I’ve only had one close call, and that was when Wilder showed up unannounced while I was supposed to be “working.” But even then, I managed to keep a tight rein on my ability until I could get him out of my apartment and squeeze in some time with Lennox.
All in all, I’m cautiously hopeful for my new life.
I know eventually I’ll have to think about the future. There will come a point where he will begin to age, and I won’t. But that’s years away, and there’s time enough to stress over that. For the moment, I just want to enjoy what I have. I reach for the familiar pressure of the fate thread that binds us, and the steady buzz of it comforts me. I have to believe there’s a reason we’re connected. I have faith that everything will somehow come together.
After one more class, I run home to quickly grab a few things and then head to the address Wilder gave me for Gwen’s Kindergarten. I park my car and wait outside while teachers begin leading lines of students outside. It takes me a while to find her, but finally I spot her wearing black leggings and a pink cotton dress near the flagpole. I cross quickly and introduce myself to her teacher. Wilder was supposed to call ahead and tell him I'd be picking up Gwen. Her teacher, a tall, lanky man in his thirties blinks a few times when he looks at me, and holds onto my hand for a second too long.
“I'm sorry. What did you say your name was?”
I pull back and smile politely. “I'm Kalli Thomas.” I remind him, “I'm here for Gwen. Her brother called to say I'd be picking her up.”
“Right. Right, of course. I remember.”
He calls out Gwen's name, and she looks away from the small group of kids she's been talking with. She squeals when she sees me and runs forward to launch herself at my legs.
I laugh, and bend awkwardly to squeeze her shoulders.
“Good to see you too, kiddo.”
She leans sideways, looking behind me. “Where's Wilder?'
“He had to run into work to take care of a problem. He asked me to pick you up for him. Is that okay?”
She squeezes my legs again in answer, and I marvel for a moment at the sight of her small hand just above my knee. Her short little fingers and tiny palm reveal just how young she really is. I smile down at her.
“You ready to go? I thought you and I could go have some fun.”
She pumps her fist in the air. “Yes! Let's go.”
Grabbing my hand, she tugs me toward the parking lot as if she knows exactly where she's going. I call a polite goodbye to her teacher, even though he's still staring at me.
“Slow down, princess. My car is this way.”
She calms, if only slightly, and lets me lead her in the right direction.
“Where are you taking me? What are we doing? Can we get ice cream?”
I laugh.
“Well, I remembered that you said you loved to swim.” They had a pool at the house they lost, and it’s one of the things Gwen talks about the most.
“We’re going swimming?” she yells, drawing a few stares from parents walking their children through the parking lot.
I chuckle. “It's still a little too cold to swim outside. But there's an indoor pool at the university rec center. We can get you a guest pass, and yeah … go swimming.”
She screams a little more, hugging my legs again, and my heart feels full enough to burst at her excitement. We make a quick trip to the Bell apartment to get her bathing suit, and then head back to campus.
I take care of her guest pass, and we get changed in the women's locker room. I hold her hand as we walk past the lap pool where a few swimmers are training in the lanes. We bypass it for the regular pool on the far side of the complex, and I have to keep a tight hold on Gwen's hand to keep her from running off. At its shallowest, the pool is still four feet deep. So we brought arm floaties in addition to Gwen's swimsuit. She insisted she didn't need them, but I made her wear them just to be safe. Wilder trusts me with his little sister, and I have no intentions of damaging that. We play for an hour or so, and I find myself sticking close to her even when she proves to be as competent a swimmer as she promised. At her suggestion, we pretend to be mermaids, and I play along as she invents a wild, fanciful story about our life under the sea as mermaid sisters.
I eventually drag her out of the pool for a break to make sure she drinks some water after playing so hard. I know I'm probably being paranoid, but I can't help wanting to protect her. While we're on our break, Wilder calls to let me know he's home. I explain where we are and tell him to take a break and relax, that I'll take care of Gwen for a little longer.
I only intend for us to stay another hour tops, but it's two hours before I finally manage not to buckle under Gwen's begging. We dry off and change, and then hop in the car to return to Gwen's home.
The front door is open when we arrive, so Gwen pushes in before I knock or ring the doorbell. Cautiously, I follow her inside the living room, my eyes scanning for Wilder. Instead, they find his mother, leaning against the wall right outside the kitchen, smiling.
There's music playing, something acoustic.
“Mrs. Bell, we're—”
Her eyes snap to mine and she holds a finger to her lips, shushing me. I press my lips together, and she beckons me toward her as the music quiets. I cross toward the kitchen, and when I'm standing right behind her, I see she has a foot keeping the door from swinging closed. She pushes her foot out, widening the crack a little, and my whole body turns to stone when I glance inside.