Jack and Djinn (The Houri Legends, #1)(25)
“Well, I’ll take that as a compliment, then. But I’m not trying to confuse you, I promise.”
“I know. And it is a compliment. I’ve been thinking about it this week, and I realize I can’t just break up with Ben right now. It’s very complex. He won’t let it go. I’m honestly afraid of what he’ll do when I tell him. I’ve said all this before. I want to be with you, please know that. But I can’t just wave a magic wand and make it all easy and simple.” Miriam watched Jack process this, thinking about it before responding.
“Okay, listen. Lemme put it this way. I’m here for you. No matter what. I want you to be happy. If you decide to stay with Ben”—this was hard for him to say, clear in the way he spat the words out as if they tasted bitter—“then I’ll respect that. But if you need time to figure things out, I’ll wait. I want as much time with you as I can get, in any way I can get it. And if you decide to leave him, I promise I’ll protect you, no matter what.”
This worked the hooks even deeper, pulling her to him, into his arms. “You’ll protect me?” His hands went around her waist, resting with familiar affection on the swell of her hips.
“Yes, Miriam, I will protect you. You don’t have to be afraid of him.” This brought a hard knot of emotion into her throat and set her eyes to burning. Tears welled up, stinging salt running down her cheeks, all brought on by a simple statement, said as if it were obvious, like she should have known he would protect her. Like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and not a foreign concept.
Jack pulled her close to him, standing with his legs spread wide and his arms wrapped tight around her, her body pressed against him. She wanted to believe him. She really did. It would be so wonderful to just pretend that Jack could protect her from Ben if she were to do the unthinkable and break up with him. She laid her head against Jack’s chest, imagining the scene: telling Ben, I don’t want to be with you anymore. Please leave me alone. Oh, god, just the thought of it was frightening. He would be confused at first, then disbelieving, thinking she was joking. Then when he realized she was serious, he’d get angry. So angry. So violent. And Jack wouldn’t be there, would he? He couldn’t stand next to her as she broke up with Ben. How could he protect her then? But something told her he would find a way.
She looked up at Jack, her chin on his chest, her arms on the back of his shoulders. He smiled at her, a reassuring, tender smile that broke down her walls, one brick at a time. She was supposed to be slowing things down between them, but she couldn’t quite figure out how to do that. And she found she didn’t want to.
He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers, a hesitant, questioning touch, asking permission. The feather-light tingle of his lips against hers sent butterflies trembling down her spine to flutter in her stomach, fanning the flames buried within her, bringing them to life.
She lifted up on her toes to deepen the kiss, putting her hands in his hair at the back of his head. This seemed to impassion him, turn him wild with desire. He slid his hand down to cup her backside and lifted her up, easily and effortlessly. She wrapped her legs around his hips, felt a rush of magic torch through her, trickling along her skin and setting the fine hairs to stand on end, filling her with a pressure needing release; the blaze of power expanded and burned hotter with every second that he kissed her, holding her aloft against him. She clutched him with her thighs, feeling eyes on them but not caring.
She was on the verge of detonation, the welling pool of energy demanding to be vented; she pulled her lips from him and breathed out, letting the power slip from her with an exhaled breath. Through half-open eyes she saw a stream of glowing golden particles flow from her mouth and spread out into a cloud, roiling and billowing in the air around them, floating, expanding, gathering force . People walked straight through it, not sensing anything. The cloud hovered in place for a moment, then burst apart and scattered throughout the stadium, darting here and there as if sentient.
Where the fragments of magic touched down, odd things happened: Cups of beer split apart to spill over their owners, cigarettes illicitly smoked flared into sudden torches, pop machines sent floods of soda pouring out of nozzles, beer taps opened and frothy beer scudded and splashed, light bulbs burst with a machine-gun poppoppop, and the stadium floodlights exploded with a shower of sparks and flying glass. People screamed and scattered as the stadium went dark.
“Did you do that?” Jack whispered.
Miriam nodded her head. “I think I did.” She heard herself giggle, actually giggle.
“No shit.” Jack frowned, glanced around at the panicked, milling crowd. “Well, maybe we should get out of here?”
Miriam nodded again. “Sorry about the game,” she said as they exited the stadium just ahead of the crowd.
She felt guilty, knowing she had probably just caused several hundred thousand dollars’ worth of damage with that little display of…whatever it was. Jack drove her home, giving her his jacket to wear against the chill of the night wind, his hand on her knee. She left it there, toying with the zipper of his jacket, wondering what other chaos she would cause with the magic that seemed to be waiting all the time now just beneath the surface.
Jack kissed her goodbye, a brief brush of lips, too quick. She wanted to let the kiss ignite again, but he pulled away first, brushing her cheek with a thumb. “I’ll see you soon?”