Chapter 18

Any blind date that starts with?—

My brain does something like a hard reset. I have to close my eyes, which allows me to relive the last twenty-four—or is it thirty-six?—hours in reverse. My mother's floating body. The long hallway at the lab. The glowing board underneath Vee's diner. The crushing loneliness watching Jasper's sleepy face on my phone. The stickiness of his blood on my clothes. The way I held him as he died, the same way he'd held me that first night after the bus. He'd wiped my face with that awful green?—

My gaze skitters to the door, half afraid of what I'll see, half afraid I won't see it.

Vee comes up to the table. "You sure you don't want something to eat? I could?—"

The green hat enters and I'm already moving. I leave my laptop and my coat behind because I want my arms free to throw myself around Jasper. His stubble scrapes at my neck as he holds me close.

"I'm so glad you're back," I say.

"Me too. Dying kinda sucked." He lets me go long enough to frame my face before he kisses me and, yes, I definitely missed this. Jasper is an excellent kisser.

I glance over my shoulder and Vee is standing by my table, hands on her hips, bemused smile on her face. Someone mutters behind us about getting a room.

Seems like solid advice.

"Wait here," I say, palms on Jasper's chest. God, I even missed this flannel shirt, but it's the only thing keeping me from groping him in public right now. I go back to my table and pack up my things.

Vee says, "Not staying?"

I hand her some money for my drink. "I'll be back. Just have to take care of something first."

She gives me a knowing wink. "So I see."

I want to stay. I want to tell her everything, but Jasper is here and it turns out I want him more.

I say, "We need to talk. I'm sorry I've been so awful."

Her smile grows. "You know where to find me."

"In the super-secret walk-in fridge lair in the basement?"

Vee's eyes get wide. I pull her into a quick hug, then hurry back to Jasper, basically dragging him out the front door.

"Are you okay?" Jasper says. I'm so impatient I nearly get us both killed and stumble to a halt at the curb as the bus goes by. Then we're moving again, Jasper trailing after me with a litany of questions. "Did Wolfe kill you too? Does it always happen like that? One second I was in his condo, and the next second I was on the street again. I guess we know now that it works both ways."

I fumble to find my car key. I'm so preoccupied I don't even look at him. "What works both ways?"

"It doesn't have to be you that dies every time. That's great, right?" His smile lights up the dusky evening around us.

Oh. There's something I hadn't thought of.

"Jasper," I say as I get into the car. "You were dead for two days."

"What?" He slides into the passenger seat his face creased with worry. God, I missed him. It has to be me who dies every time from now on, because I can't go that long without seeing him again. "No. It was... it felt like..."

I turn the motor on, then lean over the centre console. My fists tangle in Jasper's shirt and I pull him forward, kissing him hard. He grunts, but his mouth opens when I drag my tongue over his lips. He looks dazed when I pull back, which is fine by me.

"We have lots to talk about," I say. "But later." I put the car in reverse.

"Oh. Sure," Jasper says, sounding bewildered. "Where are we going now?"

"We're finishing what we started."

We drive across town. Periodically, Jasper rubs his chest, and I wonder if it hurts the way my injuries do when I come back. It doesn't seem to worry him too much, though, because he keeps rattling off questions.

"Where's Wolfe?"

Dunno. Don't care right now.

"What did you do while I was dead?"

I'll tell him later.

"Is there really a time machine?"

Maybe? I don't know? We need to return to the lab and get a better look at the machine... and my mother. But Indigo is there, and there are things I need to do before I let him sear my insides again.

Jasper's still going, though. "We should go back to Wolfe Tech and steal the plans again. I think I know how to disable the cameras properly. I didn't think they'd realize what I'd done so fast last time."

But halfway across the town his attention finally turns toward the streets. He frowns a little, then says, "We're going to my place."

I step on the gas. "We can't very well go to mine. Indigo might be there, and that will sort of spoil the mood, don't you think?"

Logic tries to argue I'm being overly cautious. Indigo can't be in two places at once. He's either at the lab or at Ziro Hall. Unless Vee's right and he really can teleport. I'm not taking the chance of being interrupted again. Not a second time.

"The mood? I—" Jasper pauses, then his cheeks go a really cute shade of pink. He's trying too hard to be cool, but his smile is shy and it only makes my heart beat faster. "Oh. Oh, yeah, we can do that."

"Might as well. We've got all the time in the world." And yes, yes. There's the question of my dead mother in the basement at the lab. But she can wait, right? Two years and sixty some-odd days, plus or minus a hundred or more days Jasper and I have forgotten. What's a few more hours? I know I said sex with Jasper was either desperation or a feelings mess, but everything else is a mess too, so what do we have to lose? I've spent my entire life trying to figure out how I can be of service to other people. My mother died, and my reaction was to lock myself in a lab for two years, focused entirely on saving the world instead of looking after myself. It's time to be selfish, if only for a little bit. I'll be dead again by sunrise, and then we can get to the crime fighting.

There's no sign of Jasper's family as I park my car. They must be deep into their girls' night. I let Jasper lead the way up the stairs to his apartment. But once he closes the door, I press him up against the wall, pulling at the buttons of his shirt while I kiss him. His smell and his taste are exactly the way I remember them. It was already fading from his borrowed shirt as I worked yesterday at Wench, so to have the real thing to touch and breathe in is like winning the lottery.

"Morgan. Morgan, wait." He escapes my hungry mouth and hands.

"What? What's wrong?" I ask, breathless. "We're picking up where we left off."

He pulls his hat off, running a hand through his hair. "Is that all?"

My brain is swamped with sensation. There's no time for conversation. "What do you mean?"

Jasper blows out an annoyed breath. "I mean, are you only scratching an itch? Or you're happy to see me? Because trust me, I know that feeling, but if it's only gratitude, then maybe we're better off if we?—"

"I got your video," I blurt out.

"My video?" Jasper asks.

"The one you sent the last time we were here. I was in the shower, and..." My face heats and I have to drop my gaze as doubts win over need. The room gets quiet for a second before his feet sound on the carpeted floor. It's hard to let him pull me to him. I liked it better when I was in charge. But his kiss is soft, and I don't feel threatened by it. I say, "I thought you wanted?—"

"I wasn't asking you to pledge your undying love to me," he says. "I know you don't remember as many days as I do. You didn't get a chance to know me, so I can't expect you to say the things that I did."

I laugh. "From what you've said, I didn't give you much chance to get to know me either."

His fingers on my cheek are gentle. "No. But I liked what I saw. And I still do. But in the car... you said you wanted to finish what we started. If this is about checking something off a list or killing time because we have nothing else to do, then... I mean, I'll do it. But I want to know."

I could pull out of his arms. Maybe unbutton my shirt. Undo my fly. He'd know what my answer was.

But I missed him while he was gone. And I can't deny what I felt the instant he walked through the door, or even before. I covered it with snark and insults because I couldn't reconcile what I felt with his job. But that's not standing in the way anymore. And maybe, if we get out of this thing, I can try being honest with myself more often. In the meantime, I can try to be honest with him.

I cover his hand with mine. "There's no one I would want to get stuck on an endless blind date with more than you," I say. "And I'm sorry for the things I said before you told me about your family. I shouldn't have been so quick to judge. I know it's not as simple as black and white."

He brushes his thumb along my bottom lip, and I take a chance to clasp the tip of it between my teeth. His breath catches as he pulls his hand free, but he replaces his thumb with his mouth, and maybe I've said enough?

But he says, "I think you're being a little hard on yourself."

Hard on myself? I stare at him with wide disbelieving eyes. "I've done nothing but fight with you and belittle you. You're a nice guy, Jasper, but you don't have to be this nice."

He's holding me close, and I feel so safe. Almost peaceful, which is something entirely new for me. His touch is gentle when he says, "You challenge me and make me question the choices I thought only had one answer."

"Jasper," I say, aching. "My mother died. I've been so alone and angry and—" But I don't get to finish as he pulls me off my feet. Our mouths collide as he takes a few stumbling steps back, and I fall with him, until he's sitting at the edge of the bed and I get to my knees, straddling his lap.

"I'm asking you to let me in," he says. "You don't have to love me. You only have to let me be more than a henchman."

I rest my forehead against his collarbone. He's so much more than a henchman. We're past that. Past my failings too. No more sidekicks. No more regrets. And whatever that thing I saw was, it wasn't my mother. Just a mirage or a trick to keep me distracted until Indigo can find me again. The dead don't return. The future is me and Jasper.

"Partners," I say, holding out my hand to shake.

"Partners." He doesn't shake. Instead, he finally kisses me the way I've been wanting him to since he walked through the door at Wench.

Jasper's hands slide over my body and we slowly remove each other's clothes. We get to know each other in a way we haven't before. A bite on his bottom lip makes him groan. His fingers on the small of my back make me arch toward him. Jasper doesn't like it when I kiss his earlobes but makes a pleased, possessive sound when I drag my nails down his back. As I slide a hand to his groin, his lips part and his eyes flutter half shut.

"Morgan."

"Don't pass out on me here," I say.

He smiles as I keep stroking. "Wouldn't dream of it."

We do that for a while. Jasper likes it when I swipe my thumb over the crown of his erection. He explores me, tugging gently at my balls, and I moan.

He pulls me to the bed, dragging his stubble across my cheek, before he grabs hold of my hips and rolls us so he's on top. He kisses me as I laugh, and his eyes sparkle as he gazes down at me. "I can do better than that."

And oh boy, can he ever.

Jasper Jackson at my service.

It's been a while for me, and I'm immediately reminded how very little there is in this world that is truly better than a man with his head between your thighs and mouth on your skin.

I mean, revenge and vanquishing evil maybe, but other than that?

"Jasper." I gasp, fingers clutching his hair. If I'm hurting him, he doesn't seem to care. He's got one hand on my stomach, holding me down when I buck up against him. My cock is standing at full attention, and my nerve endings tingle with every swipe of his tongue as he gets closer and closer to where I need him. My toes curl in the sheets, my breath is coming in soft shallow pants, and my palms twitch with—"Jasper." I let go of his hair, horrified at the streaks of white where the strands have frozen and—"Jasper. Wait."

He glances up at me, chin on my pubic bone, breath hot on my skin. "What is it?"

"I—" I flex my palms, trying to think of somewhere I can put them that I won't regret. "I need a minute. To get some control back."

He kisses the inside of my thigh, sucking a bruise that makes me squirm. "Thought we agreed you didn't have to be in control all the time?"

"No. Wait." I push up to my elbows, wriggling free of him. "You don't understand."

He follows on his hands and knees, cock heavy between his legs, and I hate that I have to slow us down.

"I need to show you something," I say.

Jasper grumbles something I don't understand, but he lies on his side, pressed against me. He kisses my hip and runs his palm over my thigh, dipping inside to the thin skin there and?—

I yelp and he freezes, expression turning concerned. I'm breathing deep, trying to hold myself together, and he seems to finally realize I'm not playing coy. He sits all the way up, leaning against the plain headboard and positioning me so I'm cradled between his thighs. It's a nice place to be. I could stay right here for a long time. He kisses my neck, but there's less heat in it now, and my breathing slows.

"Show me," he says.

I take his hand in mine, positioning us so his palm faces up and mine is face down with an inch or so between. I close my eyes, trying to find the switch that's becoming easier to connect with every time I look for it. Careful. Careful. Can't turn Jasper's apartment into a deep freeze. I breathe slowly, finding the control that means he'll feel the cold, but I won't accidentally turn his arm to a block of ice.

"What—" Jasper says, before he sucks in a breath, then another as he pulls his hand away, hissing. "What the hell is that?"

"Call it a gift?" I say. "A special skill."

"But what is it?"

A glass of water sits on his nightstand, so I pour a small puddle into the cupped palm of my hand. As we watch, the few small drops solidify and freeze over.

"It's my birthright," I say. "From my mother."

His nose wrinkles. "You want to talk about your mother? Now?"

Oh my god. The slushy water drips over my skin as I put my palms to my own cheeks, trying to cool the flaming embarrassment there. Do I want to talk about this? No. Not right now. We're two naked guys, dicks out, and suddenly I need to talk about my dead mother? There's my usual brand of blunt and inappropriate, and there's whatever this is. Jasper's erection is deflating quickly, and I can't say I blame him. I only wanted to explain why things might get a little chilly around here as he drove me to orgasm with his too-talented tongue. But it's hard to explain what I can do—even though I still hardly understand it—without explaining who I am.

I climb up to my knees and turn to face him, kissing him so he knows I'm still here with him. With a deep breath, I say, "I need you to not freak out, okay?"

He laughs beneath my lips. "That's what people say when they know the other person is definitely going to freak out."

"Trust me when I tell you the disclaimer is necessary."

He sighs, but he lifts his hands so he can rest the back of his head against them. The swirl of brown hair in his armpits is a temptation. His flat nipples and soft hair over his chest and down his belly are an invitation. Like this, he paints such an enticing picture. I could easily skip the explanations and pick up where we left off.

But we said partners, and he needs to know.

I bunch up the sheets in my fist. My mother said never to tell anyone, but I don't want to keep doing this—to keep doing everything—alone.

Still, I can't quite meet his eyes when I say, "My mother was the Legendary Flame."