Dreamland (Riley Bloom #3)(2)
2
The next thing I knew, Bodhi had leaped right before me, and said, “Hi!” Chasing it with a dazzling smile—one that showcased his dimples and made his eyes gleam. And as if that weren’t enough, he then shifted in a way that shamelessly allowed a chunk of wavy brown hair to fall into those eyes and tangle with his extra thick lashes—just so he could sweep his bangs off his face and smile again.
It was a Hollywood move.
Slick.
Superficial.
Spurious (thank you, word-a-day calendar!) in the very worst way.
The kind of move that either makes your heart flutter, or makes you go blech. And seeing Bodhi do it, well, it just made me feel weird.
But when the move didn’t win him the reaction he’d hoped, when the members of the Council didn’t swoon all over themselves, he shifted gears, cleared his voice, and looking directly at them, uttered a very serious-sounding “Hello.”
To be honest, I was a little embarrassed by the double greeting, but before I could do anything to stop him he said, “As you know, Riley, Buttercup, and I ran into a little trouble recently, and …”
He rambled.
Oh boy, did he ramble.
He rambled in a way that was nothing but a bunch of bippidy blah blah to my ears.
Rambled in a way that made my head go all dizzy and squeezy.
Rambled in a way that wasn’t the least bit effective—or at least not where the Council was concerned. And I knew I had to stop him before it got any worse. So the second he paused, I jumped in to say, “I think what Bodhi means is—”
He swung toward me, glaring in a way that was half rage, half horrified disbelief. But it wasn’t enough to stop me. Not even close.
But before I could even get started, Royce, with the dark wavy hair, smooth dark skin, and glinting green eyes that amounted to the kind of breath-stealing good looks usually reserved for movie screens, said, “That’s enough, Riley.”
I froze—too afraid to look at Bodhi—too afraid to look at anyone—those three simple words stopping me cold. Not once in my ridiculously brief twelve years of life had I heard that phrase used for anything other than to stop me from some type of behavior an adult found extremely annoying.
An awkward pause followed, broken by Celia, who stood beside Royce, her usual cornflower blue glow once again beaming at full force when she said, “There is no need to continue. No need to make excuses or explain. We have seen everything.” I nodded. Gulped. It was all I could do.
My eyes locking on Samson’s deep violet ones as his hands clasped either side of his seat. “You acted on your own. You acted willfully, wildly, you ignored Bodhi’s instruc-tions, and put yourselves in great danger.” He rose to his feet and stood rigid before me.
“In the future we ask that you consult with us first before you go off on your own. No matter where you find yourself on the earth plane, you must never forget that we are but one telepathic message away.”
He shot me a stern look, Bodhi too, the two of us frozen, unsure what to do, when Aurora said, “There is no need to fear us. We are here to offer guidance, support, and assistance if you find that you need it. And while I know you are eager to advance, you must trust that each and every assignment has been carefully selected to match your level of progress.” Her gaze locked on mine, making sure I understood, before she went on to add, “That said, you have still managed to succeed where many other Soul Catchers have failed. Congratulations.” Bodhi softened, as a whistle of air I didn’t even know I’d been holding escaped from my lips. And when I glanced down at Buttercup, I watched as he raised his rump high and let loose in a flurry of wiggles—an overdose of cuteness. I found myself wishing he’d stop.
There was no need to overdo it. Not when I’d just been acknowledged—no, scratch that—not when I’d just been congratulated by Aurora, who I was pretty sure was the Council’s queen bee.
I’d put myself in danger. I’d taken great risks. I’d done the exact opposite of what Bodhi had ordered—and look where it got me:
Glowing before the Council.
Graciously accepting great praise.
Congratulations!
The word spun through my head.
I wasn’t in trouble. All was okay. Actually, it was better than okay. Once again, I’d succeeded where others had failed.
I knew it.
The Council knew it.
And my glow proved it.
It was Bodhi who needed the attitude adjustment. Me—I was at the top of my game.
I reveled in my success, reliving the praise over and over again.
My thoughts interrupted by the melodic lilt of Aurora’s voice when she added, “It is obvious that you are in need of greater challenges in the future, so we will do our best to provide them for you.”
I nodded, arranging my face into the perfect expression of humility, saving the victory dance for later.
My attention was soon stolen by Claude, whose long, slim fingers fiddled with the scraggly beard that stopped just shy of his waist, as he said, “And so, in light of all that you have accomplished, we agree that you two are in need of a break.”
I glanced at Bodhi, taking a sidelong peek at the brand-spanking-new sneakers I was sure he’d manifested just for this meeting, the dark denim jeans that pooled around his ankles in that cool-guy way, his slouchy blue sweater that skimmed his lean form, making my way up to his ridiculously cute face, which, just the sight of it alone, caused my throat to go all lumpy and hot as an unexpected wave of nostalgia for all that we’d shared threatened to swallow me whole.