Dark Flame (The Immortals #4)(63)
He looks at me, waiting.
I sigh and kick at the ground, determined to confess the most important reason of all, no matter how bad it makes him feel, and looking him in the eye and squaring my shoulders when I say, “Not to mention the fact that I could never do that to Damen.” My eyes meet Jude’s before I quickly look away. “I could never abandon him like that—not after—” I pause, trying to swallow past the lump in my throat. “Not after all that he’s done for me.” I rub my arms for warmth, though I’m not really cold. Just awkward. Awkward and uncomfortable, for sure.
But Jude just nods, assuring me it will all be okay. His hand pressed to the small of my back as he quietly leads me away from the bridge, from the long line of souls happily leaping to the other side, and all the way back to the earth plane.
twenty-seven
“So here’s what you do.” He lets the engine idle as he turns toward me. “First, you go inside and come clean.” He lifts his finger to silence me the second I start to butt in. “You just sit yourself down and tell the whole dirty tale—leave nothing out. Because despite your previous experiences with her, from all that I’ve seen, and all that I’ve learned, you’re in good hands. Really. She’s smarter than you think, and she’s been doing this sort of thing for many lifetimes now. Not to mention, she’s pretty much the only one I can think of who’ll actually be of any real, unbiased help.”
“How do you know about her former lifetimes?” I ask, a sudden chill blanketing my skin. “I mean, other than the stuff I already told you?”
He looks at me, holding the moment for so long, I’m just about to break it when he says, “I’ve been to the Great Halls of Learning. I pretty much know everything now.”
I nod, swallowing hard, trying not to freak. Because even though I just let him in on what basically amounts to the mother lode of confessionals, still, it’s not like I told him everything.
But he just shrugs, not missing a beat. “And then, when you’re done in there, you need to go to Damen’s. I don’t care what you tell him, that’s your deal. But you’ve really put him through the ringer lately, and no matter how I may feel about him . . .” He stops and shakes his head. “Well, just do it, okay? You’re not better yet—you proved that tonight, and you need him on your side to help get you through it. It’s the right thing to do. And take some time off work while you’re at it. Seriously, I can handle it. Besides, Honor’s offered to fill in, so maybe I’ll give her the chance.”
I nod, impressed by how noble he’s being, taking the high road and urging me toward his rival for the last several centuries. Gripping the door handle, sure that we’re finished and about to climb out, when he places his hand on my leg, leans toward me and says, “There’s more.”
I turn, seeing how serious he’s gone as his long, cool fingers squeeze at my knee.
“While I promise not to interfere in your relationship with Damen, I’m not about to back down either. Four hundred years of losing out on the girl of my dreams isn’t sitting very well with me these days.”
“You—you know about that?” I gasp, my hand flying to my throat as my voice fades.
“You mean the Parisian stable boy, the British earl, the New England parishioner, and the artist otherwise known as Bastiaan De Kool?” His eyes meet mine, two aqua pools burning with the desire of hundreds of years. “Yeah.” He nods. “I know all about it. And more.” I shake my head, having no idea what to say, where I can possibly go from here, his fingers moving from my knee to my cheek when he says, “Don’t tell me you don’t feel it too—I know that you do. I can see it in your gaze, in the way you respond to my touch. Hell, I even saw the way you reacted when you saw me with Honor earlier—today—?” He peeks at his wrist, but since he’s not wearing a watch, he just shrugs and waves it away. “Anyway, I’m not into Honor, not like you think. It’s strictly a student-teacher thing—a friendship, nothing more.” He tilts his head as his fingers, the silky soft tips of his fingers, gently glide over my cheek, so soothing, so enticing, I couldn’t turn away if I wanted. “I have no interest in anyone else. It’s been you all along. And while you may not feel the same now, I want you to know that we have no restrictions, nothing to keep us apart. Nothing but you, that is. You’re the one who decides in the end.” He pulls away, the memory of his touch still lingering, as his gaze burns into mine. “But whatever you decide, there’s no denying this”—he reaches toward me again—“is there?”
And when he looks at me, his head tilted in a way that allows a generous spray of dreadlocks to fall across his face and over his shoulder, when he lifts that single spliced brow ever so slightly, when his smile encourages those dimples to come out and play, when he looks at me like that—it’s like a challenge I cannot meet.
Yes, I feel something when we touch. Yes, he’s undeniably sexy and cute and someone I can count on. Yes, on more than one occasion I’ve found myself just the slightest bit tempted by him. But even after it’s added all up, it still doesn’t equal what I feel for Damen. Never has. Never will. Damen’s the one for me. And if I accomplish nothing else on this crazy, insane day, I’ve at least got to be straight with Jude, no matter how much it may hurt. . . .