Hourglass by Myra McEntire Read Free Book Online Page B

of bread crumbs to find your way home, you should probably give that roll a break.” Michael’s voice barely hid his concern. My heart stumbled a little, but the tenderness in his voice kept me from falling.
    I dropped the remains of the bread, crossed my arms over my chest, and continued. “As the chemicals left my system, I started seeing things again. It only happened a couple of times last semester. I saw a rip at my friend Lily’s place earlier this summer. Then yesterday I saw a Southern belle in a hoopskirt and a guy in my living room, and then last night, there was the …”
    “Jazz trio, yeah.” He twisted the silver ring on his thumb. “Are you glad you aren’t taking the medication anymore?”
    “I hated it. I never felt like I was in control, although crazy people don’t generally get to claim self-control as a personality trait.”
    “Stop.” Michael’s voice wasn’t loud, but the word was a command. “You are not crazy. What you see is real, Emerson. It’s valid; you’re valid. What you went through was horrible—losing your parents.”
    Losing my mind.
    “All I’m saying is … please don’t be so hard on yourself.” He reached as if he were going to touch my hand but pulled back. “Cut yourself some slack.”
    His words sent a wave of relief through me. Not just what he said, but the way he said it, as if he wouldn’t accept any other alternative. Some of the anxiety broke loose and flowed away, and the release was sweet. Tears filled my eyes.
    “Oh, damn. I’m not a crier, I swear. I never cry. I hate to cry.” I wiped my eyes on my napkin before any of the tears fell. He flagged down the waitress and asked for the bill, giving me some time to regain my composure.
    “It’s on the house,” she said brightly, her eyes flicking briefly to me before giving Michael a tentative smile.
    “Thanks.” He smiled back. When she walked away, he dropped a twenty on the table.
    Nice tipper. Always a good character trait.
    After a few seconds I looked up at him. “Thank you.” He nodded. I knew he understood I wasn’t thanking him for dinner.
    “You want to get out of here, go to your place?”

Chapter 8
    I t took a few seconds before I remembered to blink.
    He didn’t bother hiding his grin. “So you can show me the lofts?”
    “Oh, right, yes, lofts. Good. Lofts. You ready to go?” I stood, knowing my cheeks sported a ridiculous shade of red.
    We walked through the restaurant to the bar area, and his hand accidentally brushed the small of my back, the heat so focused where he touched me that the rest of my body felt chilled. I looked up at him from the corner of my eye. He put his hand in his pocket.
    Behind the bar, Dru counted bottles of red wine while the bartender loaded them into a teakwood rack. “Dru? Michael wants to see the lofts. Can I use the master?”
    “Sure.” She pulled a set of keys from her pocket and removed one from the ring, giving it to me. Her gaze darted back and forth between the two of us as her face registered surprise, or maybe concern.
    I was sure she noticed her flawless makeup application was smudged.
    We walked through the town square in silence. My emotions were ridiculously close to the surface, as if my insides were flipped to the outside, but the feeling of vulnerability didn’t scare me. As I showed him the two lofts, the energy still hummed between us, keeping all my senses on overdrive. Even though the mood was intense, I was experiencing an unknown. For the first time in a long time, I felt … safe.
    We stepped into the hall, and I locked the door to the last loft before turning to face him.
    “I like both spaces. Thomas and Dru can put me wherever they want.” Michael rocked back on his heels. He stared into my eyes for a few seconds, those seconds stretching into what felt like hours as he reached out until his fingertips were an inch from mine.
    “Are you sure?” I asked in a low whisper.
    “It’s not going to go away,” he