The Illusion (Book Two in The Illusion of Certainty Series)

Enter Imaginary Friend

“Hard morning?”

I knew that voice. It wasn’t Michael. He was still out in the living room. It wasn’t Luke; he couldn’t appear out of mid air. I thought back to where I’d heard that voice before.

Then it clicked.

“Max?” I looked up and found the familiar outline of my childhood imaginary friend. I reached up and flipped on the lights. It sounds weird but with everything else that happened, I hadn’t bothered to turn on the light. Someone must have come through to clean because the bed was made and the curtains were closed. Plus the milk spill was gone, but did that even happen?

“I never thought I would find you here of all places,” he said.

I had to be hallucinating. Max wasn’t real. The key word in his description was “imaginary.” I looked him over and couldn’t help but blush. I used to have the biggest crush on him, but then who wouldn’t. He was the tall, dark and handsome type. His hair was a dark brown that he was currently wearing short. His eyes were chocolate brown, like Aidan’s, and he always had a nice tan to cover his muscles. I asked him once why he had so many muscles. He told me that he had to stay in shape to keep up with me.

He wasn’t wearing a shirt, which was normal for him. He wore black slacks and no shoes.

“You’re—you are not real. God they really must have done a number on my brain to make me see you.”

He smiled. “You’re right girlfriend. But why, in the world, would you let a Vampire play around in your head?”

Holy fucking shit! This was unreal. I stood up slowly and approached him. My hand slowly reached out and touched…skin. Real skin. I was crazy. I had to be. He looked amused.

“Feel something you like?”

Oh this was bad. I’d finally snapped. I’d gone crazy. Finally.

“Oh. My. God.”

“Now you’re just sounding like a California girl and you know I find those annoying.” He opened his arms. “Do I at least get a hug?”

“You’re not real! I can’t hug a figment of my imagination!”

“Well fine. I’ll hug you.”

His hand caught mine and pulled me to him. My face was met with warm skin as he hugged me tightly. This was crazy. I took a deep breath; he had always smelled like my mother’s homemade chocolate chip cookies, my favorite smell in the world.

Yup, definitely crazy.

“You smell the same,” he said.

I pulled back and looked up at him. “I was just thinking the same about you. But then again, if you are a figment of my imagination, then you would know what I was thinking. And I’d be standing here, hugging mid air.”

“Hmm,” was his reply.

“Well, it’s true.” I let go and looked over at the mirror. All that was there was me alone in an empty room. I turned back and looked at him. “What are you doing here anyways? Wait. I know that answer. You’re not real. So you’re here as a manifestation of my subconscious.”

“Been reading up on psychology have we? No jelly bean, I’m not a manifestation or a figment your brain has conjured up for your amusement. I was sent back. I was told that you would need me so here I am, back to haunting you.”

Oh this was nutty. My manifestation was telling me he was real. Great.

“Right, because that makes sense.”