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“Let me go first.”

I raised one eyebrow.

“I know you can take care of yourself. And me.” He looked outside, leaning to the left and right, watching Landers through an inch of space. “This is a precaution. I know the house and the people who could be in it. You don’t.”

“Point taken.”

I stared at the curve of his lips, not thinking about the bridge or the things we’d have to deal with on the other side of it. Just Michael, how grateful I was that he was alive, how much I wanted to touch him. How much I wanted him to touch me.

He kept his eyes on the activity outside. “Emerson. You can’t look at me like that. Not right now.”

“How do you know how I’m looking at you?”

“I can feel it.” He smiled. I couldn’t see it, but I could hear it in his voice. He hooked one arm around my neck and gently pulled me to his side. “Hold it. You only told me one piece of bad news. What else is there, besides the fact that Jonathan Landers has been stalking you?”

“The ripples, they’re changing. We both saw the jazz trio at the opening of the Phone Company, but I’ve seen other things since. The worst happened here, right before I came to save you. This whole room transformed. I looked out the window and saw a scene from at least a hundred and fifty years ago.”

“What?” he breathed out.

“I can’t explain it. It was like I’d traveled back in time.”

“More like time traveled to you.” He paused, thinking. “Rips have been more detailed for me lately, but nothing that intricate. Did you tell Liam?”

I nodded. “He’s worried.”

“That’s saying something. Did he have any explanations?”

“No.”

He let go of me and pulled the door open another half inch. “Looks like all the key players are talking to the fire chief.”

“We can’t go yet,” I protested. The crowd might be thinning out, but the grounds still looked too full to navigate without being noticed.

“We can’t leave Cat holding the wormhole open for much longer. She’s on enemy territory if the people at the Hourglass are still loyal to Landers.”

“Just a few more minutes.”

“Just a few.” He rose and pulled me to my feet.

“Since we’re waiting …” I grabbed the collar of his jacket, stood on my tiptoes, and pressed my lips to his. His skin was cool at first, but heat flared the second we touched. It warmed me to the tips of my toes and fingers, and I’d have bet cold, hard cash my hair was standing on end, light shooting from each individual strand. I didn’t want to open my eyes to check.

He pulled me closer, trailing his mouth along the line of my jaw and down my neck. I held on to his jacket more tightly, pulling him even closer.

“I’m ready to get out of here,” he murmured in my ear. “Get you somewhere I can kiss you properly.”

“This isn’t properly?” I was shaking again. What was it about this boy that made me shake? “If not, can I handle properly?”

“I’ll do my best to make sure you can.” He kissed his way across my cheekbone to my lips, his hands sliding under my jacket, his fingers burning against the cotton of my T-shirt. I couldn’t help thinking about how his hands would feel on my bare skin. “Or that you can’t handle it. Whatever you want.”

I wanted to be alone with him. Really alone. “Maybe we should take this back to my place.”

He lifted his head to look at me, a strange expression on his face. I let out a nervous giggle. “That sounded better in my head.”

“It sounded pretty damn good out of it.”

We reached the house without incident. It almost went too smoothly.

“Did I say thank you?” Michael asked as we ducked into Liam’s office. “If not, thank you.” He raised our joined hands to his lips and kissed the inside of my wrist.

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