Free Soulmates by Holly Bourne Page B

this – he – was.
    “I completely overestimated you,” he said. “You’re not the person I thought you were at all.” The words stabbed me. He withdrew his hand, and mine felt freezing without his touch.
    I couldn’t stand it – the way his face had changed from admiration to hatred so quickly. I wanted him back already. I ached for his affection.
    “Look,” I said, almost pleadingly, wishing I could undo what I’d just said, “I know I’m being a bitch and I’m sorry.”
    He glared back at me.
    “It’s just…I don’t think you and me are very good for each other. We’ve only just met and we’re already fighting.”
    “You’re lying to yourself.”
    “I’m not.”
    “Yes you are. And you know you are.”
    I had to end this. Everything he said was true but I couldn’t let myself fall for him. I would get hurt – badly hurt. I made my voice cold again.
    “Noah, you just need to get over the fact that I DON’T FANCY YOU!” I shouted for effect. “I know that’s probably never happened before, but deal with it.”
    He stepped back from me, disgust on his face.
    “You’re right,” he said. “You are a bitch.”
    Then he skulked out of the corridor towards the exit, leaving me standing alone.

Dr. Beaumont stared at her computer screen, not daring to blink. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been sitting there. Six hours? Maybe seven? A cup of cold coffee lay abandoned next to her keyboard, along with empty pretzel packets. This was no week to worry about dieting.
    The laboratory was buzzing but she was concentrating too hard to notice the bustle of people around her. If she’d been able to drag her eyes from the screen, she might have noticed that most of them were staring at her, concerned looks on their faces.
    Her focus was broken by that stupid assistant.
    “Alright, Anita?” Rain’s voice was remarkably chirpy considering the circumstances. And he’d called her “Anita” again, the idiot.
    He placed a freshly made cup of coffee on her desk. “I thought you might need a refill.”
    She looked up at him, annoyed that she’d been distracted but grateful for the drink. “Thanks, Rain,” she replied curtly, before turning back to the screen.
    The monitor was full of green code. Complete nonsense to an outsider, but to Dr. Beaumont it was easier to read than an airport novel.
    Rain pulled up a chair and sat astride it.
    Again, she was forced to turn away from her monitor. “Yes?”
    Rain looked nervous for once. “We were just wondering…”
    Anita was really annoyed now. “You were just wondering what?”
    “Well…er…people, I mean, myself and others… We were just interested to know if, you know, another reading had come up?”
    Anita sighed. Of course they wanted to know. Everyone did. The Defence Secretary wanted a twenty-page report by midnight.
    She leaned back and shook out her harshly scraped-back bun. It felt good. She ran her fingers through her hair and sighed again. “Not since last night.”
    Rain pulled his stool closer. His voice went down to a whisper. “And last night?” he asked, the whites of his eyes shining with fear. “This reading was…high up on the scale?”
    Anita nodded. “It’s a true match. Worst-case scenario. The shit-hitting-the-fan scenario you wrote essays about in training.”
    Rain gulped involuntarily. “And you think they’ve made…?”
    She finished his sentence for him. “Physical contact? No doubt about it. You don’t get these from chance encounters.”
    She pressed a button on her keyboard and a graph slid silently out of the printer. She passed it over to him, noticing her fingernails were still unfinished from that disrupted manicure the other day. “Here, look for yourself.”
    Rain held the paper away from himself and squinted, trying to read the pattern. He blinked a few times and held it further away. It fell into place. “Jesus H Christ.”
    Anita took the paper off him. “I know.” She sipped her coffee and