For Ever (26 page)

My pulse thuds at the memory of running
through the darkness of the cemetery.

“It wasn’t your fault. I told you to leave me
alone,” I remind him quietly.

“I knew better!” he snaps, glaring at the
road ahead. “I just couldn’t bring myself to admit how badly I was
being compromised by these
emotions
.”

I frown when he bites off the last word like
it’s a curse.

“What’s so wrong with emotions?”

“Nothing, for you, but
I
am supposed
to be able to control them.”

“That’s ridiculous. You can’t control what
you feel.”

“I can.” He shakes his head and looks over at
me. “I could.”

“That sounds awful, ignoring what you
feel.”

“Necessary and useful, though.”

“To feel nothing? Why? Besides, your friend
Chasen seemed perfectly capable—of anger at least.”

“That is Chasen. I have found it easier to
operate without such a human vulnerability. It is useful to
understand
human emotion, not to suffer from it.”

“And now?” I ask carefully.

“I wouldn’t give up what I feel for
anything.”

His eyes burn into mine for several seconds
before I look away. That’s when I notice that we’re parked on a
street—not mine, though.

“Dinner?” Ever prompts before stepping out of
the car.

When he opens my door, I get out and look
around, my eyes landing on the restaurant on the corner. It looks
expensive. I hesitate a moment before following him. He opens the
door for me, and after walking up a short interior staircase, I
stop at the hostess station. The kitchen is visible from where
we’re standing. Several men in crisp white jackets are rushing
around amidst the steam. The smell is mouthwatering—savory and
rich, and my stomach grumbles. Still, all I want to do is turn
around and find the nearest fast food place. I mean, is he crazy? I
can’t afford this! A young woman walks up, her eyes locking onto
Ever instantly before her gaze flickers briefly in my
direction.

Please say that’s his little sister.

“How may I help you?” she says to Ever.

I’m attempting to shrink into the background
when Ever grasps my hand. I gawk at him.

“For two,” Ever says.

It’s early on a Monday, and the restaurant is
only half-occupied. As the young woman leads us to a quiet corner,
she turns back, and I see her expression wither a bit at the sight
of my hand in Ever’s.

“Your server will be right with you.”

She smiles brightly at Ever before departing.
I look down at the menu to distract myself; the prices are enough
to do the job.

“We didn’t have to come here. … Unless you
wanted to eat.”

I study him, thinking of all the times I’ve
watched him sitting in the cafeteria with an untouched tray in
front of him. I remember assuming that he didn’t like cafeteria
food. I’m still surprised that he ate actual food when he came to
our house.

“You’re hungry,” he says. “And I didn’t want
to take you home yet.”

His eyes are burning through me again, and my
head begins to spin. My trance is broken when a man arrives at our
table and fills the water glasses before setting bread and olive
oil on the table. My cheeks still feel warm when I look back at
Ever.

“Well, I didn’t want to go home yet, but you
already knew that, because you cheat.”

I smile, but it’s more to cover up my doubt,
or more accurately my conviction that our association is skewed so
transparently in my favor, even taking into account that Ever’s
original purpose had been my quick termination. If I were here with
Josh—or even Jeff Summers—it would make more sense. But I probably
wouldn’t feel nearly as ecstatic or conflicted as I do now.

“Wren, please do not give me any more reason
than I already have to snap Summers in two tomorrow.”

His tone is so dark that my skin breaks out
in goose bumps. Then I realize that he just read my thoughts—again.
I sit up straighter.

“Haven’t you heard of the concept of
privacy?” I squeak. “Besides, I wasn’t thinking that I would rather
be here with—”

“
Don’t
,” he snaps. “Don’t even say his
name. I know you should be here, anywhere, with one of those
boys
. I don’t need you to remind me of how far I’ve pulled
you out of your world.”

I don’t like the way he says
your
world
. It only widens the gap between us. Out of the corner of
my eye, I register someone else standing in front of our table. I
look up and slowly register the man’s expression. Terrific. Our
server thinks we’re having a fight. I watch as the man pastes a
strained smile on his face while I fold my hands in my lap and lean
back in my chair.

“I’m Doug. I’ll be your server this evening.
Our chef has prepared muscovy duck confit with black lentils,
celery root, radicchio, Spanish chorizo, green beans—”

“Thank you,” Ever says evenly. “The lady will
have the seared sea scallops and a Coke.”

I stare at him, too surprised to argue. When
Ever doesn’t offer his own order, our server departs with a look of
unreserved relief.

“I was going to order the mushroom risotto,”
I stammer. “Why did you do that?”

“
Why
were you going to order the
risotto?”

I shrug defensively.

“It sounded good.”

Actually, everything on the menu looked
delicious.

“And what did you really want?” he asks
pointedly.

“Fine! I didn’t want to order the most
expensive thing on the menu, okay?”

My cheeks redden.

“And your plan was to order the least
expensive?”

“Yes. What’s wrong with that?”

I carry exactly enough cash for the bus and
lunches at school. And the money I have in my wallet would have
been enough to cover the risotto, no beverage, and a tip.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his tone softening. “I
didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I simply wished for you to
order what you truly wanted. I never intended for you to pay. I
should have made that clear.”

“But
you’re
not having anything. And I
don’t expect you to buy me dinner just because I’m hungry.”

“Have you always been this stubborn?” he
asks, amused.

“
Me
?” I laugh, adding quietly, “You
won’t stop reading my mind.”

“Only when it’s convenient or necessary,” he
says.

He’s still smiling, which makes him even more
irresistible.

“Hmm. Convenient or necessary. That’s all the
time, right?”

“No. I’ve found I enjoy hearing you
speak.”

Looking down, I pick up a piece of bread and
dab it in olive oil. My stomach growls again in response, so I pop
the bread in my mouth and begin chewing. Seconds later my phone
vibrates in my pocket. I take it out to confirm the call is from my
mom. I jump up, and Ever rises with me. I rush toward the
restaurant’s exit, looking back once to confirm Ever hasn’t
disappeared. Taking a deep breath, I answer the phone.

“Hey, Mom!”

“Hi, sweetie. I just called the house, but
you didn’t pick up,” she says.

There’s an edge of suspicion creeping into
her tone already, so I decide against trying to lie.

“I’m,” I squeeze my eyes shut, “having dinner
with Ever.”

“I thought you said he didn’t like you,” my
mom teases.

I roll my eyes.

“I should get back.”

“All right, go. I’ll be home around
eight.”

I hurry back into the restaurant, slowing
when I see the hostess standing at our table. I can’t muster any
sense of rivalry; she’s very pretty, with stylish blonde highlights
streaking her auburn hair. She’s also several inches taller than I
am and dressed more fashionably.

Ever turns and looks at me. Embarrassed to be
caught watching their exchange, I walk slowly to the table. He
rises before I get to my seat and pulls out my chair, and by the
time I sit down, the hostess is back at her station. She looks in
my direction, but I turn away before I can mistakenly hear
something in her thoughts that I don’t want to.

“You give yourself very little credit,” Ever
says when I look back at him.

My indignation suddenly flares.

“I give myself plenty of credit where I
deserve it.”

“No, clearly you don’t.”

A man arrives and sets a plate in front of
me.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You believe that woman is more attractive
than you?” he asks curiously, almost accusingly.

“I cannot believe we’re even having this
conversation.”

Picking up my fork, I stab a spear of
asparagus and taste it. It’s delicious. I chew carefully and try to
form a coherent argument.

“I wasn’t comparing myself to her. I was just
thinking she’s very pretty.”

I slice a piece of scallop and take a bite,
savoring it.

“But you thought I would be interested in
her?” Ever asks.

“I don’t see why not,” I say with forced
casualness.

Really, I don’t want to know if he thinks
she’s pretty. Then something occurs to me, and the words pop out of
my mouth before I can stop myself.

“Unless you don’t have those types of
feelings?”

My face reddens instantly at the implication
behind my question. But hadn’t Ever said that it was more
convenient not to have human emotions? And what emotion could be
more distracting than attraction?

“I said it was problematic, not impossible,
to have human emotions,” he says in a low tone.

“Oh.”

I’m too nervous to say anything else, and
Ever appears content to let me finish my dinner without further
grilling. I still have more questions than I can count, but my
brain refuses to process them in an orderly manner. Once I’ve
finished eating, our server delivers the check, which Ever
immediately hands back with a crisp bill, causing Doug’s eyes to
widen briefly. Ever stands, indicating no need for change, and I
wonder how large the bill was. On the way out, I catch the hostess
watching Ever like he’s something to eat. I can’t blame her. How
many times had I done the same thing before I knew he could hear
me? It makes me wonder if it gets old listening to people
salivating over you all the time.

“Thank you,” I say quietly. “For dinner.”

He nods, and when we reach the car, he opens
the passenger-side door. Not that I would know, but the moment
feels oddly date-like. I squash the thought as quickly as it
surfaces, and Ever doesn’t say anything. I wonder, then, if he’s
constantly monitoring the brainwaves around him—I can’t even begin
to imagine that—or if he’s just picking up errant thoughts. As he
drives, I watch him.

Perfect and immortal, if I believe what he
said the other night. Never older or younger than he is now. I
can’t imagine this, either. But I guess pretty much everything
about him has exceeded the boundaries of my imagination.

Turning to stare out the window, I watch the
shops and restaurants pass by in a blur. Soon we’ve abandoned the
lights and civilization for the dark hills that separate the
suburbs from the city. Still not looking in Ever’s direction, I
start slowly.

“You said before that you would never get
older than you are now. How is that possible?”

“My organic composition is not as delicate as
yours,” he says.

I face him, recalling the feel of his fingers
against my skin—unyielding and perfectly smooth, yet radiating
heat.

“You’re not an android, are you?”

Okay, that sounded nuts, even to me. But I am
having a tough time piecing together the few details Ever’s given
me to describe what he
is
.

“No,” he smiles thinly. “Though I was created
more so than being born.”

This makes sense from what he said about
never having been a
kid
, but I still feel my eyebrows arch
automatically. When I don’t say anything, he looks over at me, as
though he’s seeking approval.

“Would you like me to continue?”

I nod a little hesitantly.

“Our form here is an approximation of our—I
suppose souls is the best way to describe them. Physically, we’re
mostly human, though more durable and advanced than humans when we
cross the barrier into this dimension.”

“Teleportation, clairvoyance, mind reading,
telekinesis … I feel like I’m in a freaking comic book,” I mutter
wryly.

“I’m sorry if this disturbs you.”

“It’s not that. I was just thinking—why can’t
these demons, or whatever they are, just materialize? What do they
need me for?”

“Unlike us, they require a body. And a life
force from which to sustain themselves.”

I swallow. That would make me the car
and
the gasoline.

“Then what happens now? I mean for the rest
of my life? You can’t watch me forever. That’s not fair to
you.”

My voice cracks. I don’t know whose
punishment would be worse—Ever for feeling obligated, or me for
loving someone who’s tied to me out of duty. I jump when the car
suddenly swerves off road. I grasp the door handle, my pulse
throbbing, as we skid to a stop. My door jerks open a second later,
and Ever grasps my hand. He pulls me out of the passenger seat.
Taking my face in his hands, he leans down, and I stop
breathing.

“Close your eyes,” he whispers.

“Why?”

“So I can kiss you.”

I shiver as his thumb comes down to trace my
jaw, and I close my eyes. The first touch of his lips sends a
tremor through me. My knees weaken when his arm encircles my waist,
lifting me easily. Instinctively I wind my arms around his neck,
and my fingers slip into his hair as he pulls me closer against
him. I can feel the heat of his chest through my sweater, and every
nerve ending in my body begins to ache with an unfamiliar hunger. A
low growl in his throat causes my heart to hammer so fast that I
think I’m about to pass out. Ever pulls back, and my feet touch the
ground. I open my eyes and look up at him.