“I’ll take her home,” Finn said. “She’ll be okay with me.”
Mari’s eyes glinted. “I’m sure she’s in good hands.” She threw me a teasing smile and kissed my cheek, whispering, “I’ll call you later, girl.”
I leaned against the cold metal of Finn’s car, not knowing what to say. He was going to think I was mental, if he didn’t already. It wasn’t just the man with his leering eyes and the painful wrenching from my body when he was near that had me frightened to my core. It was the ominous note at Say Chi’s, and the palpable, ferocious energy of that room after Finn played. It was this difference in me that separated me from everyone else.
Finn leaned forward, his hand resting on the roof of the car next to my shoulder, fingers strumming invisible chords on the blue paint. “You look scared,” he whispered, mere inches from my face. There was a teasing quality to his observation, as though he knew that his body pressing gently against mine and his lips hovering mere inches away were having an effect on me. I swallowed freakishly loud. Then his right hand wiggled next to my hip, and I heard a click as he lifted the door latch.
“Get in,” he said, opening the car door. I let out the breath that danced behind my lips.
“I can’t get in your car. I—I need my bag,” I protested, standing a bit straighter even though I still felt weak and nervous.
He bent, retrieved my bag from the ground, and handed it to me. “Mari brought it out.”
“My bike?”
“I’ll get it for you later when I pick up my guitar and equipment. You just passed out, Cora. I’m not letting you ride your bike home,” he said with a determined set of his jaw.
I bit my lip. “I’m scared,” I whispered. The truest thing I could admit.
“Of?”
That man. Seeing auras. Being silver. Of you. “Of everything I can’t control.”
Finn smiled. “Aww, luv, too much is out of our control. Your best bet is to control the fear.” He pressed lightly on the small of my back, guiding me toward the open door.
I slid in, setting my purse on my lap, and reached inside it for a Hot Tamale. When he got in the car, I offered him the box of candy. He dropped a few into his hand and tossed them in his mouth. “Man, that was something in there. I feel superhuman.” He raked both hands over his scalp and leaned back, exhaling. “Jesus, I could use a pint. America is seriously lacking in pubs.”
“Is it true that there’s a pub for every five people in Ireland?”
Finn laughed. “Probably.”
He still hadn’t started the car. I looked out my window at the pink blossoms of the cherry trees falling onto the dark pavement. Admittedly, I also looked for the man to peek out from behind a tree, but saw nothing. I locked the door. “I liked watching you play. You’re very talented. I was surprised—”
“Thanks a heap.”
I laughed and cuffed his thigh with the back of my hand. “I was going to say I was surprised you were playing the blues.”
“Oh, that. I’ve always loved American blues.” His colors warmed. I pushed away the vision of his aura growing so huge at the coffee shop. It had seemed like a living entity. Hungry. “Your blues sings to the ghosts the way some Irish music does.”
Intriguing. He didn’t talk like anybody else. I rested my cheek on the leather seat. “Sings to the ghosts?”
He smoothed his scruff with his long, tapered fingers. “Ireland is littered with ghosts. Music is how we speak to them. But it also sings to the ghosts inside you.” So, he was a rock-star poet.
When he caught me looking intently at him, he slid his fingers closer to mine and added, “We all have ghosts, Cora. Secret hurts. I do. You do. I can see it in your eyes.”
“That’s because you’re really looking. So few people do.”
“I adore your eyes.”
Your eyes remind me of home. I loved how he’d said that in the hospital. He saw me. Truly saw me. But it was more than fanciful compliments. Every interaction between us rang of fate. Like we were destined to sit in this car tonight. Destined to share a story.
He ran his fingers through his hair. “It’s not just the color of your eyes—though, damn, that emerald green against your black hair slays me. It’s what’s in them. I feel like I know everything…and nothing, when I look in your eyes.” He glanced away, suddenly shy.
“Questions and answers,” I whispered. He looked at me in a penetrating way, almost pained. “That’s what I see in your eyes, too,” I confessed. God, I never knew the desire to kiss someone could be so intense. He was right in front of me, searching my face, smelling of melted cinnamon, his gaze falling to my lips, lingering there.
He wants to kiss me.
His hand cupped my face. “You know how badly I want to kiss you?”
“Yes.”
A surprised laugh. “How?”
“You keep watching my mouth,” I whispered. “It makes my lips tingle.”
How could I tell him that his aura had already kissed me?
He blew out a huge puff of air and turned abruptly away from me, then started the car. “Damn it! I’ve never wanted to taste something so badly in my life.”
I stared at him, confused. Wouldn’t this normally be the part where he did kiss me? Whatever his reasons, I decided to let him off the hook. “I can’t date you, Finn.” Saying it, I felt like a bee stinging itself.
“I can’t date you, either.” He chuckled and slipped my hand in his. Warmth wound through our fingers. His voice softened. “So, will you go out on a date with me?”
Finn insisted on walking me to my front door, just to make sure I was okay. To ensure I’d die of heart palpitations, my father intercepted us on the porch. I scooped up my bag and thanked Finn, but my dad invited him into the living room.
“What happened?” my father asked, his voice and face stony. “When you didn’t come home, I went to look for you at the rec center, but it wasn’t open. You lied to me? Didn’t you notice how many times I’ve called your cell phone?”
Damn. I hadn’t heard it over the music. “I ran into Finn downtown, and then I fainted.”
Dad’s eyes grew alarmed and a bit incredulous.
“Finn insisted on driving me home. He didn’t think I should ride my bike after what happened.”
“Is that so?”
“It is, sir,” Finn answered.
“Then I’m sure I must thank you,” my father said, not covering the ice in his voice.
Finn smiled. “No thanks needed.” He looked around curiously. “You collect treasure boxes?” he asked, gesturing to my dad’s impressive collection of various sizes and shapes of boxes around the room.
“Yes,” I said when Dad was slow to reply. “He always picks them up on his business travels.”
“That’s a lot of travels. Do you keep things in them?” Finn asked, fingering one. I refrained from telling him that Janelle’s latest stroke of brilliance was to put one in the bathroom filled with maxi-pads and tampons.
“No.”
“No treasure?” he asked, friendly. Trying so hard. My heart went out to him.
“Cora’s the only treasure I have left.”
We all stood there, awkwardly.
“So, how long are you planning to be in America?”
I slipped my arm in Finn’s. “Smooth, Dad. Nice to meet you. When are you leaving?” Both Finn and my dad laughed uneasily. I kissed Dad’s cheek and pulled Finn out the door to say good-bye.
“Sorry about that. My dad’s a scientist. Right now, he’s experimenting with new ways to heighten awkward feelings in people.”
“You never did give me an answer about our”—he inclined his head and whispered—“date.”