Think of the Devil

Twenty

The following morning, Matt woke up alone. The small room was warm, the morning sun pouring through the window onto his back. Realizing he wasn't in the cold basement of the church, he bolted upright and took in his surroundings.

The bed beneath him was wider, the sheets mildly more comfortable. Muffled voices were talking in another room nearby. He took a deep breath, inhaling a now-familiar herbal scent, and that's when he finally relaxed. He was in Jane's room, in Jane's bed, but where was Jane? Shaking off the morning fog, he extended his senses as best he could.

The telepath was in her living room in the big comfy chair next to the lamp. He heard a pen scribbling, smelled the recycled paper and cloth binding of the journal she wrote in. Across from her was another girl on the couch, heartbeat lighter and faster, a teenager. She was talking to Jane about scholarships, her cadence nervous as she worried about money for college. His brows furrowed, wondering who this was and why she was there. When the girl tearfully revealed that her parents couldn't afford to send her to school, he realized what was happening.

Jane had a client over. She'd left him to sleep in while she had to work. He felt bad as he stretched his aching limbs, his entire body battered and bruised and his injured shoulder screaming at him. He tried his best to ignore their conversation, understanding his secret presence was an issue for both of them.

It was difficult when Jane started speaking again, soothing the girl when she cried. As he remembered the night before, he recalled how relieving her voice had been. When she came out of that bizarre stupor, the first thing she'd said was his name. If he focused hard enough, he could remember exactly how it sounded. He replayed the moment over and over again. And then his thoughts turned to how their night had ended...

When the teenager started speaking again, he remembered he was supposed to be tuning them out.

Rolling his sore shoulder in a circle, trying to improve the circulation, Matt crawled out of her bed and sat on the floor. Resting his back against the mattress, he crossed his legs and let his hands rest on his knees. He figured if he had time to kill he could at least meditate and try to speed up his healing. It would help him block out their session too. Taking another deep breath, letting his eyes close, he worked on clearing his mind and focusing on his body.

That was how Jane found him twenty minutes later. She'd heard him wake up and hoped he wouldn't be too disoriented. She'd been tense for the few moments it had taken him to figure out his surroundings, but once he'd settled down she had too. Now she stood in her doorway, coffee in hand, leaning against it as she watched him meditating on the floor. It was the most calm she'd ever seen him, the most quiet he'd ever been to her.

"You're staring again," he said suddenly.

Surprised, she shifted her weight against the doorjamb. "How would you know that?" she asked.

Matt's eyes opened, head tilting towards her as a smile pulled at his lips. "Just a feeling."

Her eyes narrowed at him, and somehow he knew that too as his smile widened. "I don't know why I'm surprised," she muttered. "You can probably feel my eyelashes fluttering when I blink, or something."

He didn't respond, eyebrows raising as his smile became crooked. (Pretty much.)

Shaking her head, Jane watched as he unfolded his legs and started to stand up. "I hope you slept well," she said. "I thought I might wake you when I got up, but I'm glad I didn't." She tried not to think about how hard it had been to pull herself out of bed, how much she'd wanted to stay wrapped up in his arms. Her body flushed anyway, remembering his strong hold around her.

He noticed the flush, his head tilting when he did, and his lips tugged up into another smirk. (What is she thinking about?) Her blush crept up to her cheeks as she looked down in embarrassment.