While I Was Away(58)

“I'm good, really, thanks,” she argued, holding her ground when he tried to pull her towards the dance floor.

“What's wrong? You shy? It's just a dance, sweetheart, I promise I don't got two left feet,” the man laughed. “Now just c'mon and we'll have a good -”

“You okay?”

Jones appeared at her side, but didn't look at her. He was too busy staring down the man next to them.

“I was just telling this guy we're leaving,” she explained. Jones' stare turned into an outright glare.

“I heard that part,” he said, then he nodded his head at the man's hand on her. “So I can't figure out why you're still touching her.”

“No need to get sensitive, fella,” the guy said, dropping her arm and holding up his hands. “I didn't know she was with anybody, I just asked her to dance. There's no problem here.”

“It became a problem when she said 'no' and you put your hand on her,” Jones informed him. “So why don't you just walk away and go find the bottom of a bottle, okay?”

Adele was stunned into silence, and she almost thought there was going to be a stand off. The man glared at Jones, then snarled and turned away, spitting on the floor as he went. They both watched until he'd fully disappeared into the crowd, then she turned to face Jones.

“Um ...” she started, not sure how to proceed. He glared for a second longer, then his face abruptly cleared.

“What the hell was that?” he asked, raking his fingers through his hair.

“I don't know, but it was pretty awesome,” she laughed. “Were you jealous?”

“God, I was, wasn't I? I can't believe it – I've never acted like that in my life! But I saw him grab you and heard you and I just ... I don't know. I saw red. That's was insane!” he exclaimed, both hands in his hair now. Adele couldn't stop her smile from morphing into a grin.

“It was,” she agreed. “I've never seen this side of you before, you were always so calm and mild mannered. I mean, you never really had a reason to be jealous before, but it's kinda sweet, honestly. I don't mind if ...”

She didn't finish the sentence because she instantly knew she'd gone too far. This Jones could only be pushed so much before he shut down – before his logic and reasoning took over. She felt so familiar with him, and he just wasn't there yet. She had to remember that, she had to respect it. If she didn't, he'd freak out and push her away, which was exactly what he was about to do.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he gushed, holding up a hand. “Mild mannered? Adele, I know we said some stuff, but you don't know me. You don't. You had a dream. A head trauma-induced dream, but it wasn't me. It was just your brain creating someone and giving them my face and voice. It was a figment of your imagination. It wasn't me.”

He could've slapped her and she would've been less hurt, but she stayed strong. He was scared, and she had to understand that – it was scary. All this unknown, all this ... magic. She took a deep breath and nodded.

“You're right. I'm sorry. I shouldn't talk to you like that, it's ... it's inappropriate. I'm really sorry,” she spoke quickly.

Jones didn't say anything. He just turned away and stormed out of the bar, leaving her to hurry after him. They'd taken her car – he'd driven, but she had the keys, so she wasn't sure what to do.

He was in his head, though, and automatically walked around the car and dropped into the driver's seat. She got into her seat with more delicacy, then sat quietly while he looked all around the dash and steering wheel, patting his pockets at the same time.

“This isn't my car,” he suddenly realized out loud. Adele held out her keys.

“You know the way back better,” she said. He glared again, then took the keys and started the vehicle.

It was an awkward drive to the cabin, and she couldn't even appreciate the spookiness of seeing it in person again because the tension between them was so thick. He was frustrated because he didn't understand what was going on between them, and mad because she did, and it all made him uncomfortable. She knew all that, but it didn't make his anger any easier to bear.

“Really, I don't mind leaving,” she lied again once they were inside the small house. Jones shook his head while sliding off his jacket.

“Enough. You're staying. It's late already. I'm just ... I'm gonna take a shower, you can next. I'll leave out some stuff for you to sleep in.”

Adele's weekend bag was in the car, with a pair of perfectly good pajamas inside it, but she didn't say a word. Just nodded her thanks and stayed quiet while he made his way across the room. The only other door in the building was at one end of the bed, and though she'd never been through it in her dreams, she assumed it was the bathroom he was disappearing into.

His shower was long, and she worried his over-analytical brain was undoing any progress their hearts had made that evening. It shouldn't be possible, what was going on between them, she knew that – before her coma, she hadn't thought soulmates existed. She certainly hadn't believed you could fall in love in your dreams.

But now there was no question in her mind that both were possible, and she thought – no, she believed – Jones was coming to the same conclusion.