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December 19, 10:36 a.m. 52 seconds
(Lake St. Clair, Michigan)
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Kyle Paxton did not need an alarm clock. For the past 10 years, he woke up every day at 6:45 a.m. with the accuracy of an atomic clock. Very rarely, when he was tired, he would go back to sleep. But no matter where he was on the planet, he always awoke at 6:45 a.m. like a clockwork rooster. Today, for the first time in a decade, Kyle woke up not knowing what time it was. After a few groggy blinks and frowns, it came to him. 10:36 a.m. 52 seconds.
Mind fuzzy as if on an antihistamine dose, Kyle struggled to remember where he was. Did he get hit by a horse tranquilizer dart? His body definitely felt like Ketamine was circulating in his veins.
Then he felt the soft, hot flesh alongside him. Juniper. Sound asleep, she was glued to him, one arm around his waist and legs clasped around his thighs in a boa constrictor’s vice. With a shooting ache of arousal, Kyle gazed at her, enjoying the flush of her heated cheeks, the silky tangle of her hair on the pillow, and the beautiful lines of her limbs. The sight of her was enough to fire his neurotransmitters to a chemical high.
This was turning out to be a morning of firsts.
It was the first time he had spent the night with anyone, except Chloe.
Chloe.
Why did Juniper remind him of Chloe? He could not think of a single thing they had in common, except him.
A chill ran down his spine.
Instantly, he wanted to get away from Juniper. Moving cautiously, he untangled himself from her and slipped out of bed. She frowned in her sleep and turned, limbs twitching in quest of his warmth. He put a pillow under her legs and tucked her in the comforter. He stood there in disbelief as, bit by bit, last night’s memories played out in his mind. She had surprised him—like she always did.
They had made love a total of 3 times, until 4:28 a.m. He had been expecting a frigid, uncomfortable experience but it had been electrifying—incredibly fucking hot.
Even now, in the cold light of the snowy day, he recalled the intensity of their connection. The connection that went beyond the physical pull—which was all Kyle thought they had—until he had fulfilled that raw need ripping him apart since he’d met her. It shocked him to meet this big connection standing like a shadow between the two of them, and he saw in Juniper’s eyes it was no news to her.
She knew. She had always known it was there.
He had been right about her—she had broken him.
Something angry inside shook him to his firmly planted feet. Abruptly, he walked away from Juniper. The en suite was large and modern for a freaking treehouse. Missing his morning swim, Kyle planned to do calisthenics, his only option with no pool, no weights and no exercise machines. Squaring his shoulders, he decided to do 100 squats, chest dips and incline pushups. However, his lazy body did not allow him to progress beyond the warm-up portion, which entailed 12 deltoids flexes, 18 cross-over shoulder stretches, and 16 hamstring stretches. It wasn’t for lack of energy but motivation that he could not do his usual travel-allocated calisthenics.
What the fuck, loser?
Giving up, he rinsed his mouth and washed his face with the icy water. Leaning against the sink’s cold ceramic edge, he stared unseeing at the mirror. He addressed the image, like he always did when wracked with anger, guilt and questions.
Happy to mess up a messed-up innocent?
Innocent no more, replied his image with studied nonchalance.
Bastard.
Why? She really wants us.
You want her too, son of a bitch, Kyle said with a hiss.
Only till July.
“Liar, liar,” Kyle said out loud.
If we let it go on, you know it’s going to end badly, the reflection replied. It always does.
Kyle turned away. Juniper terrified him. The force of her feelings terrified him.
Despite the war in him, he cared for her too—more than she knew. But he had to let her know this was temporary, not permanent. How many times did he have to tell her that? She just didn’t get it. Even after she signed the Termination Contract. In blood. And now, she was in too deep. They could not possibly last on this high more than that allocated time.
Kyle turned on the shower and said aloud, “It’s like Chloe all over again.”
No matter what he did, Chloe always returned to him. An image of Chloe’s broken corpse suddenly flowed in with the jetting water. Stepping into the tub, Kyle gritted his teeth, willing the broken body in his head to vanish. But it was still there, broken and dead, lying still on a steel gurney under a white plastic sheet.
I have to get away from here.
