Free Love Redone by Peyton Reeser Page A

churning inside was showing on her face as she turned what she hoped was a blank stare and a bland expression in his direction. Inside , however, she was filling with an overwhelming feeling bordering on panic.  In fact, right then she thought that if anxiety were a water balloon, it would’ve launched itself out of her by now and slammed against the wall behind them, dripping liquid towards the floor. Her next thought was why a water balloon?  Why not a balloon filled with paint? At least that way the dripping down the wall would be some intense color like purple—anything to take her mind off her increasing nervousness.
    Nicholas Barrett, the man who had made her feel limitless and alive and pathetic and of no consequence, was suddenly and without any warning whatsoever involved in her life without invitation.  Well, that wasn’t entirely true, Shannon mused while still snapping defensive glances his way. 
    She had crumbled in his arms when he carried her to his SUV for the drive to the clinic.  Between the pain and the shock of seeing him, she had momentarily lost her emotional equilibrium.  Thinking back to how she had silently allowed him to cradle her injured leg in his huge hands and the way she had melted against him when he scooped her up , as though she weighed nothing, made her both want to cringe and do it all again.
    Never again! screamed a memory in her head, bringing her instantly back to reality.  Uh uh, nope.  Not gonna lose it here, girl, she chastised herself.  Nicholas Temple Barrett was a different person than the Nick Temple she had loved so desperately.  Snap out of it, she firmly chided.
    * * *
    Nick watched the play of thoughts and emotions dance across her face as though he had some exclusive access to her most secret thoughts.  She had always been so easy for him to read and still was, he realized with grim satisfaction.  It was as if he was completely tuned in to her on an organic level that time, distance, and a great deal of hurt had not killed. The pretty little pout she threw at him when he told her she was wiggling had almost sent him to his knees.  Good lord but she was absolutely adorable sitting there all puffed up and trying to act like she wasn’t as hysterically off-kilter inside as he was.
    Fascinated, he made note of the wild seesawing emotions that danced across her expression and guessed rightly, he was sure, that she was struggling with her response to seeing him again and the undercurrent of the terrible way he had treated her the last time they’d spoken.  Those two extremes were certainly tying him up in knots , too, but for far different reasons.
    He knew that his churlish actions had been done in her best interest , as if the crueler he was, the better to ensure a complete break so she could go on with her life unencumbered by lingering hopes.  Only he would know that in doing so, he was dooming himself to a future devoid of emotion, for Nick’s path of duty and destiny had been laid out long before their time together.  A period he stole from the past as a lock against the future.
    That she was trying to fight off a physical awareness of him was also mightily apparent to Nick.  The restless motions of her beautifully expressive hands as they clutched and then smoothed the sheet covering her spoke volumes about the struggle she was having.  Whereas he could read her emotions, he was plagued by unease, because though her response to his presence was palpable he couldn’t actually decipher whether she wanted to smack him or hug him. He hoped it was the latter but didn’t discount that, in her mind, he probably deserved the smack.
     
    Sitting this close he had also picked up on the steady but visible pulse in her neck, which was telling its own story. She kept tugging at her bottom lip with quick little bites, a reflexive motion signaling a mixture of distress and excitement, he pulled from his memory. 
    He wanted nothing more than to lean forwa rd and