Sing Me To Sleep Part 20

He hesitates. "Are you sure?"

"Just don't kill yourself. I haven't had enough of you."

He laughs-like I made a joke, but it's got a bitter edge to it that takes me by surprise. "What?"

But he's gone.

I follow and watch him. Not a good idea. Even the lower course looks scary from the ground. The high course is bloodcurdling. I know he's hooked in-but he's way, way, way up there. And he just goes for it. No hesitation. No fear. At one point, there is a younger Amabile singer stuck in front of him. Derek unhooks completely and scrambles around him. Unhooks. He slips- "Derek!"

He catches himself instead of splatting at my feet. He hooks in again and focuses down until he finds me. He reads the flipped out terror expression on my face from all the way up there. "Maybe you shouldn't watch."

I go looking for Sarah, but she and Blake have disappeared.

I could go back and do the same route I went through with Derek, but what a drag doing it by myself. Aren't I spoiled? All of a sudden, I don't want to ever do anything by myself again. It's him or nothing. That makes me sad. Tomorrow morning I'm on a plane, flying away from Derek. He'll be home in two weeks, and then we'll squeeze every minute together we can into our lives, but it won't ever be like this again. How can he waste a minute?

The duet we sang together last night keeps running through my head. I hum the chorus as I wander through the trees. . . . Our love is so true . . . won't take a step. . . . Thank G.o.d, you came. . . . It's you. It's you. As long as there isn't a giant tree to swing from.

I make up my own verse, get lost in the trees as I work out the lines. Finally get it to say what I can't. I sing first.

I want you near, all night, all day.

I need to believe the things you say

You say it's me-

But how can that be true?

I imagine him singing back to me.

There's no one else, I' ll be so true.

Trust me babe, and I' ll love you.

I get stuck on his last line. By the time I find the wood building where all the courses start, Derek's already there-waiting for me, chugging a giant bottle of tepid Evian.

"How did you finish so fast?" How many more times did he unhook to pa.s.s somebody? "You're a maniac."

He shrugs his shoulders. "Gotta get that adrenaline any way you can."

"You scared the heck out of me."

"That's so sweet."

"Not particularly pleasant-for me."

He clears his throat and takes a swig of his water. "Probably a good thing you won't be around for the next couple of weeks." He's sweating, pulls off his hockey jersey. His T-s.h.i.+rt underneath rides up and exposes a Band-Aid on his lower stomach on his right side.

"I thought you were touring." I walk over to him, run my hand over his stomach, find the Band-Aid. "What did you do to yourself?"

"Mosquito bite. Look at this one on my arm." He holds up his arm. "I swell way up." There is a nasty, swollen, scratched bite on his arm.

"You're not supposed to scratch at it. Do you have another Band-Aid?" The spot on his stomach wasn't red like this mess on his arm.

He slips one out of his pocket. I dump some water on his arm, pat it dry with a tissue, and plaster the Band-Aid on it.

"Now that itches like crazy."

"Stop trying to distract me. Why did you say that about me not being around?"

"We're not going to be hanging out in museums. Did you know there are glaciers in the Alps you can ski on all summer?"

Shoot. I need to call my mom and see if she'll buy me a new ticket home. He'll kill himself.

My face must look desperate. It gets to him. "I'm sorry, Beth." His eyes fill with a pain I don't understand. "I shouldn't have forced myself on you like this." He makes it sound like tomorrow will be good-bye. "It's not fair."

"Don't say that." Now I'm scared. "I'd still be crying on that bench by the lake if it weren't for you. Force yourself? You rescued me."

"But I haven't been totally honest with you." His hand rests on his waist, covering the spot where the Band-Aid is.

I don't know if I want to hear this. Is it Blake's drug-habit tease or Meadow's girlfriend theory? "I'm listening."

"I have-um-"

Whatever it is, we'll work through it. At least he's going to tell me. I can help him. He doesn't realize it, but I owe him. Every time he touched me-all week long-that stupid test and my wrecked genes did disappear. And last night, for those few minutes onstage with him, I was a star. I can't believe he did that for me. I dreamed the applause all night. Nothing can hurt with him in my life. I never want to sing with anyone else.

It's bittersweet, though. Here's a guy I could imagine wanting to have a baby with someday. At least trying. Or practicing. That makes me sweat. Maybe I will need that pill prescription. He says it's not about s.e.x, but the way I feel when we make out is overpowering. I'm pretty sure it has something to do with s.e.x. Isn't he feeling that, too?

Whatever it is that haunts him-whatever he needs me for-I'm there.

I step forward, close, so I can speak low. It comes out in a rush. "You can tell me, Derek. It's not going to make a difference in the way I feel about you."

He starts to cough, takes another long drink of water, coughs again.

I put my head on his shoulder. "Admitting it is the first step."

He shakes his head. "Not applicable here." He puts his hockey jersey back on.

"Of course it is."

He drains off the rest of his water bottle, pitches it, and grabs my hand. "Let's go. We're wasting time."

Stubborn.

Frustrating.

Foolish.

Intoxicating.

He scares me. Thrills me. Totally confuses my sense of direction. Up in the trees. Down on the ground. In the spotlight. In his arms. I have no idea where I am.

There's a backup at the zip line, and we have to wait. He's in front this time. I slide my arms around his chest and lean over to ask, "How good a skier are you?"

"Boarder. Maniac level."

I let go of him-jab my finger in his back. "Now you're doing it on purpose."

"I won't tell you what we're doing tomorrow."

"Jumping off a mountain?"

"No-that's Tuesday."

chapter 15.

SO RIGHT.

"We're so boring." He met me outside my hotel again tonight. It's darker. More clouds out. Maybe it will rain. "Last night in Lausanne, and we end up on this same bench."

"I love this bench." I don't want to bore him, though. I nerve myself and let my lips slide down to his neck. He catches his breath. He tastes sweaty. Salty. Savory. s.e.xy. I suck harder, move my mouth, and do it again. I'm so not bored. He pries my mouth off his neck so he can administer some lip action.

"Uptown is just the bar scene at night." His words tickle my lips.

"And we're not into that."

"I'm just into you."

I laugh at how delicious he is tonight. "That sounds like a corny pop song."

"I think it is." His lips explore the side of my face. "Or you could write it."

"That's you." I pull back so I can see him better. I like him in the dark. Somehow he's softer, safer. I caress his face. "Did you finish my song?"

"Nope." He frowns at me. "This beautiful angel distracted me."

"Uh-oh." I lean back against his arm. "I don't want to come between you and your art."

He grins. "Who said it was you?"

I pummel his chest. He defends himself. He bears down on me, trying to kiss me. I whip my head back and forth. When he finally gets my lips, the kissing is crazy and fast. Eager and desperate. More tongue. More pa.s.sion than we've let loose before. His hot mouth moves to my neck, my shoulder. He sucks on my prominent collarbone. Now he's kissing my sternum. His mouth slides lower. His hands creep higher.

I should be nervous and freaking out, but all I want is for him to keep going. I'm aching for him to touch me. I want his s.h.i.+rt off-my hands on his skin. His hands on mine- But he stops.

He pulls his face away, props me up, bends over with his face in his hands. "I'm sorry." His breath comes out in spurts.

I hang over him. "I'm so not offended." My fingers go to my blouse b.u.t.tons-undo the top three, and all I'm thinking is I'm glad that underwire bra pushes most of me into view.

Derek looks up. "Beth. Don't. I'm trying to do what's right here." He turns his back to me.

I stroke his back. "I've never felt this. I like it."

"It's not right."

It's dark. No one can see us here. "Is there a right or wrong about it?"

"Of course there is. There are things you don't understand."

"It feels right."

He slides to the far end of the bench so I can't reach him. "Trust me. It isn't. You don't get it."

"Come back, Derek." I glance down at my bra peaking out of my s.h.i.+rt and whisper, "What don't I get?"

"You know how hard it was to stop?" He glances at me over his shoulder, his eyes linger. "How hard it is for me not to jump you this second?"

I swallow. "Would that be so awful?" Something crazy and powerful has me, and I don't want it to let me go. Enchanted? Naw. This is stronger than any magic.