Hourglass (Hourglass 1)

“I’m not snippy, I’m mad,” I returned through gritted teeth. “And your personal health is in danger if you don’t fess up about what’s going on.”

“I really underestimated you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Michael stared at me for a moment. “You’re too brave for your own damn good. You have no idea what kind of situation you put yourself in tonight.” He stood, pacing back and forth in front of the couch. “Seeing you at that house …”

“What are you talking about? Fill in the blanks,” I snapped.

His wide shoulders slumped over in defeat. In one second, all the anger disappeared. “If something had happened to you tonight, it would’ve been my fault. Kaleb warned me not to treat you like a kid. I did it anyway, and I’m sorry.”

I struggled for words, but none came.

“I can’t take another step without involving you.” He clasped his hands behind his head, closing his eyes. “Tonight, when you overheard Kaleb and me, we were talking about—”

“Michael?” A soft voice called from the entryway.

He dropped his hands and his eyes flew open. “Dr. Rooks?”

A woman stepped into the room. A drop-stinking-dead gorgeous woman. Her bronze skin was flawless, her dark hair cropped close to her head. Probably she didn’t bother with her hair because nothing could compete with her face. I knew I was staring, and I hoped my mouth wasn’t hanging open.

“Emerson, this is Dr. Rooks, the person I wanted you to meet. She’s a theoretical physicist, and she teaches at the college. She’s also kind of like a housemother.”

I doubted seriously there’d ever been a theoretical physicist and housemother in the history of the world who looked like this one. She appeared to be in her late twenties, tall, with delicate features and wide eyes. When she turned her head to smile at me, her tiny nose ring caught the light, taking me by surprise.

“Lovely to meet you, Emerson.” Something about the lilt of her voice made me think of warm rays of sunshine and tropical breezes. “Are you visiting?” she asked, puzzled.

I didn’t know how to answer, so I looked at Michael. He checked the grandfather clock in the corner.

“It’s almost midnight,” he said to me. “You should probably call Thomas.”

I didn’t move.

“Please? I don’t want either one of us in trouble.”

“I’ll call, but we’re not finished here. I’m going to tell him not to expect me until tomorrow morning.” I stood to retrieve my cell phone from my bag, silently daring him to contradict me, at the same time shocked by my own defiance. “Is that a problem?”

“It’s your life.”

Dr. Rooks smiled as I excused myself.

Michael didn’t.

I stepped into the hallway to make the call, my hands shaking as I dialed. Thomas didn’t answer. Relieved, I left him a quick voice mail. Better to beg for forgiveness than to ask for permission and all that. Dr. Rooks and Michael were whispering furiously when I reentered the room.

“Um, we were just discussing where you could sleep,” Michael explained as they stepped apart, but the flush creeping up his neck told a different story. “Dr. Rooks is going to set up an air mattress in her room.”

“Upstairs.” She gestured to my bag. “Are you ready now?”

I looked at Michael. I didn’t want to pitch a fit, but I wasn’t above it.

“Go on,” he told her. “I’ll bring her up in a while. We have some things to discuss.”

Chapter 22

Here.” Michael handed me a tall glass of ice water he’d gotten from the kitchen, then sat down on the couch beside me. “Are you sure you don’t want anything to eat?”

“Stop procrastinating. All I want are answers.” I rested the bottom of the glass on my thigh, watching the condensation drip down the sides to form a cold, wet ring on my jeans. “You were getting ready to tell me something about Kaleb.”