PART TWENTY-THREE

It was late, probably after 10:30 p.m. by now, and slowly everyone was filing off to bed for the night. Yet, there were still a few of them playing Maria’s ridiculous game of questions.

Who was your first date with? How old were you when you had your first drink? What’s the one thing you’d never want your parents to know? That one had evoked some good laughs from most all of them.

Isabel and Alex had gone to bed now, and Liz had taken Max into their own room to give him a long overdue haircut. She’d laughingly told him that she’d liked Future Max’s hair, but that she wouldn’t let him go that route. He’d smiled, rising from where he’d been sitting, and Liz had retrieved her hair clippers from the main bathroom. Liz had been cutting all of their hair for years now, something they’d begun to rely on during their lean college days. In the beginning, she’d only cut Max’s, but then Maria had begun asking her to style hers, too, and before long nearly all their group depended on her. It had always struck Tess that Liz’s love of order and symmetry found an artistic avenue in these haircuts.

So, only a few of them were playing the game now, especially since Serena and Cecilia were still on patrol. In another hour she and Riley would replace them on the watch, but for now Tess sat on the sofa, hugging her knees tightly against her chest—desperately avoiding Marco’s keen gaze where he sat on the sofa just across the room from her. Kyle sat beside her, his arm thrown loosely across her shoulders as they waited for Maria’s next question. So far, Tess had survived most of this game without too much embarrassment, and had laughed at some of the answers the others had given to the various personal questions.

And with each new question, she’d waited expectantly for Marco’s answer, secretly treasuring every new scrap of information she learned about him. He was much more reticent in his answers than most of the group, and answered very cautiously, guardedly—and somehow that surprised Tess. She wondered if his self-protectiveness might have something to do with feeling vulnerable around her.

She also didn’t miss the way his black eyes had flashed with jealousy when Kyle had settled beside her, throwing his arm over her shoulders. She’d smiled at Kyle, snuggling closer, and had then caught Marco simply staring at the two of them, his face flushing slightly with obvious possessiveness.

She’d smiled faintly at him, where he sat across the room from her, trying to ease his apparent discomfort. But he’d quickly averted his gaze and something about his refusal to communicate with her—even so subtly from across the room—had left her aching for him.

Yet, wasn’t this what she’d pledged to herself last night? That she would no longer encourage the feelings that had been growing between them? She’d even pulled her hair back into a long braid today, despite how he’d begged her not to hide from him anymore—had told her how beautiful it was loose. But in the wake of last night’s conversation she’d drawn it back tightly from her face this morning.

And had nearly cried at breakfast, when Marco had gazed at her so strangely as she’d joined the group. His eyes had wandered over her hair for a long moment, and Tess had seen such confusion flash in his dark eyes.

But of course he was confused—he didn’t know that she’d made a vow of her own last night.

She glanced at him again and this time found him staring at her openly, his eyes questioning her. She felt his words resonate right through her, they were that clear.

She shivered slightly at hearing his voice so strongly within her own mind, at realizing how connected their thoughts were becoming with each day that passed. How did either of them think they could fight the bond that was slowly forging between them—not when they were joining somehow, even without mating or even barely kissing?

Tess tossed her braid defiantly, willing the thoughts out of her mind…ignoring the questions she sensed churning in Marco’s head.

"Who was the first person you ever kissed?" Maria asked and her voice drew Tess back to the moment.

"Whose turn is it now?" Anna asked from where she sat with Riley on the hearth. Tess was always surprised by how quiet Anna’s voice was, because there was nothing quiet about her fiery personality.

"Tess, confession time, baby," Michael laughed. He and Maria sat beside Marco, on the sofa across from her, so she definitely noticed how keenly Marco awaited her answer.

Her cheeks flushed suddenly, and she toyed nervously with her braid. "I think I’ll pass on this one," she finally answered.

"Oh, no…you’re not getting off that easily," Michael demanded.

"Michael, I’m sure she just doesn’t want everyone in this room to know that it was Kyle," Maria explained patiently, but her playful smile belied her words.

"Oh, please!" Tess exclaimed. "As if he were my very first."

"I wasn’t?" Kyle turned to her, feigning disappointment.

"Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but you know, like I was actually kissed before the age of eighteen, Kyle."

"Then who?" The question was voiced so quietly, that it was all the more shocking that Marco had asked it. Normally, within their group, his throaty voice tended to be strong and loud, rumbling throughout any room he occupied.

She met his penetrating gaze, and felt her heart beat quickly as she stared into his black, moody eyes. Something about his asking had left her feeling very exposed in front of the group—as if they could all read the unspoken words passing between the two of them.

You kissed Kyle once…what is he to you? She heard it again, felt Marco’s jealousy, and how very possessive it made him feel of her—even though she also sensed that he berated himself for it, knowing he had no right to lay claim to her.

"Oh, all right," Tess sighed, staring down at her hands for a moment, and began laughing softly. "You guys obviously aren’t going to let it go."

"Not a chance," Maria agreed with a vigorous nod of her head.

"Hud Grossclose," Tess confessed and felt her cheeks flame hotly.

"Hud Grossclose?" Michael practically yelled. "No, that is not a real name."

"It is," Tess argued with a wry laugh. "The name of the very first guy I ever kissed."

Tess raised her eyes tentatively, and was surprised to see Marco grinning broadly, his single dimple giving his smile its usual quirky appeal. "How old?" he asked, arching one black eyebrow.

"How old?" Tess asked, confused by his syntax.

"How old were you when Hud Grossclose kissed you?" Marco clarified, and Tess felt fire spiral within her at his determined questioning about this kiss.

"Fourteen," she answered simply, and then raised her own eyebrow playfully. "You?" Suddenly, it seemed there was no one else in the room, only the two of them, flirting so blatantly.

"Hudd Grossclose never kissed me," he laughed defiantly.

"How old were you when you had your first kiss," Tess clarified, and out of the corner of her eye noticed that Maria was smirking, glancing back and forth between the two of them.

And she had a sudden horrible thought. What if she had been his first kiss? Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. She tried not to panic, because surely a gorgeous man like Marco had kissed many women in his lifetime. But she found herself remembering how shy and tentative his kisses had tended to be.

"Fifteen," he finally answered. "Julie Broadbent."

"Julie Broadbent?" Riley roared, rising slightly from where he sat. "You never told me about that!"

"Who the heck was Julie Broadbent?" Maria questioned, wrinkling her nose in confusion.

"A gorgeous girl who lived in our apartment building in Santa Fe," Riley explained, scowling at Marco. "You held out on me, man."

Tess felt her own little wave of jealousy now, at the thought of anyone else mattering to Marco…anyone other than herself.

"I didn’t hold out…you never asked," Marco laughed, a deep rumbling sound that she always loved to hear. He’d been so intense recently that she’d hardly heard him laugh at all, and she suddenly realized how very much she’d missed it.

And also suddenly wanted him to know that Kyle was only a brother to her—that it was all he’d ever been, except for a very brief period years ago. She opened her mind to him, closing her eyes and willed him to know.

*****

Liz combed Max’s wet hair onto his forehead, drawing it into a tight, neat line, before she raised her clippers. She’d stepped right between his legs in order to get the necessary angle, and he surprised her by suddenly slipping his hands onto her hips.

"Max," she whispered softly. "You’re going to make me mess up."

"Who cares," he murmured, gazing up at her. Naked desire danced in his golden eyes—of course it was nearly impossible to be so physically intimate during their season and not respond to one another this way. But it was making this haircut progress incredibly slowly, and also embuing this ordinary part of their life with radiant sensuality.

"I care because I want this to look good," she explained patiently, easing his hands off of her hips.

"I’ll wait," he groaned. "But only if you’ll let me make love to you when you’re done."

"You’ll have to wait longer than that," Liz explained with a shake of her head, as she combed his hair again. "Riley’s next."

"Riley?" Max cried and Liz instantly felt how jealous the idea made him.

"Yes, Riley," she smiled softly. "And then Marco."

Max frowned, drawing his eyebrows together in consternation. "I don’t like that at all."

Liz couldn’t help laughing because it was so unlike Max to be jealous about something like this. She could only attribute it to the wild, intense passion had been blazing between them recently. It was almost as if it had awakened a primal possessiveness in him.

"You’ve never minded me cutting Alex’s hair," she countered with a smile, clipping a new lock of his dark hair.

"Alex is just so…Alex," Max complained.

"Max," Liz whispered, leaning down to press a warm kiss to his forehead. "This is just ridiculous."

"We don’t know Riley and Marco like we know Alex," he offered boyishly, begging her with his eyes, as he pulled her closer between his legs.

"I already told Anna I’d cut Riley’s hair," she explained huskily, responding to his touch more than she’d meant to. It was impossible to resist him, with the way her blood simply boiled for him all the time right now. "And one look at Marco, and you know he needs a haircut."

"And that’s our problem?" Max breathed, stroking his hands down the length of her legs.

"Tess will thank you."

Max laughed, staring up into Liz’s eyes. "I suppose so…it’s impossible to miss what’s happening between those two, isn’t it?"

They’d never exactly discussed Marco and Tess’s relationship, but everyone within the group had been quietly murmuring about it for months—ever since the night they’d walked in together from Marco’s patrol, leaving no doubt as to why they’d been together in the middle of the night.

And yet something hadn’t seemed right between them either. There was just so much obvious attraction and tension—but they never seemed to be together.

Liz pried Max’s hands away from where they were exploring her thighs hungrily.

"I’ll make a deal with you," she breathed.

"You’ll make love to me," he finished, staring up at her again.

"Afterwards…but for now," Liz hesitated and closed her eyes, finishing her statement by simply opening herself to him in the most urgent way. She heard Max draw in a tight breath as their connection leapt wildly to life.

****

"What is the one decision you regret most?" Maria read from her paper, glancing up at Michael.

Tess hated that question, because right now her life was full of so many regrets. She wouldn’t even know how to properly respond, because even the simpler answers that she could provide—ones not related to Marco-- weren’t ones she wanted to share. Like having been so cruel to Liz in the beginning of their relationship, or having pursued Max so vigorously back then.

"It’s Marco’s turn to go first," Michael prompted.

Marco groaned loudly from where he sat on the sofa, and Tess smiled sympathetically at him.

"Nope, Marco’s saved by the bell," Riley said, stepping into the living room, his hair wet. "It’s your turn for a haircut."

Marco shook his head in vigorous denial. "No thanks."

Liz stepped into the living room after Riley, and beckoned him toward her with her index finger. "Look, you’re not going the way of Future Max, either," she explained with a generous smile, and Tess thought again how Liz took such pride in her handiwork.

Marco knit his brows and just stared at Liz in confusion for a long moment.

"Liz cuts all our hair," Maria explained. "And she’s ruthless about determining exactly when she thinks we need a trim."

Tess studied Marco’s hair for a moment and had to admit it had gotten quite long on his neck recently, but she actually liked it that way…had loved the feel of it beneath her fingers last night, so thick and silky.

And as she watched him unfold his long, rangy legs and rise from the sofa, something disconcerted her about the notion of Liz cutting his hair. She couldn’t help thinking that it was a very bad idea, in the wake of all he’d shared with her last night, though she couldn’t pinpoint exactly why.

****

Marco had wet his hair in the bathroom sink, and now sat in front of Liz, as she combed slowly through his damp tresses. He was uncomfortable—decidedly so—at her physical proximity and the way he felt her connection with Max teasing his emotions so headily. He debated simply bowing out of the venture, but couldn’t come up with a plausible explanation for abandoning the plan.

So he sat quietly denying the seductive call of what he was feeling from her, the way she and Max were obviously deeply bonded, even as she cut his hair right now. The emotions were like a siren song, and he felt his resolve crumbling fast because it was simply too difficult to block something this powerful.

Just like when he was a boy. That’s exactly what this was, and he’d believed the madness to be gone all these years. How could he have been so foolish?

He’d tried talking to Serena today, as Tess had advised, but every time he’d found a moment alone with her, someone else had entered the room.

And now this.

He pressed his eyes shut tightly, as Liz combed a lock of hair down over his forehead, but that only opened him completely to the emotions he’d been trying to suppress.

Oh, God the way they needed one another, loved one another. So strong…so undeniable. Tess…so very much what he felt for her. His love, his beautiful Tess. Every direction he turned, it seemed he was fighting an unbeatable current and it suddenly made most sense just to swim with it.

He opened more fully, picturing Tess’s gorgeous blonde hair, flowing freely across her shoulders, caught briefly by the mountain wind. He was only dimly aware of Liz at all, but felt her tiny fingers brushing across his forehead, her small body pressing just against his legs.

His head began to thrum with a blinding headache, exploding like white hot light just behind his eyes. He didn’t understand why this had all become so unmanageable in the past week, and what he most wanted was to flee from the overpowering sensations sweeping over his body and heart. Yet he was transfixed in his seat, with only the feel of tiny fingers lightly touching his forehead, combing loosely through his wet hair.

His thoughts were totally muddled and confused, as countless impressions shot right through him. He could feel everything Max and Liz shared at that moment, and it was as if he were swimming in a dark, murky ocean, his only point of reference the small woman just in front of him.

Tess…she felt so much like Tess, as her knees pressed against his legs, her small hands working with his hair.

This was what he hadn’t been able to share with Tess last night, the part he’d held back…how crazy this all made him, how jumbled his thoughts became. After all these years, the madness had come back upon him—and never so fully as at this precise moment, as his head swam with every emotion passing between them.

Yet it was only Tess he kept wanting, sensing…

And wasn’t she the one right in front of him? Weren’t those her tiny hands raking through his hair? He burned for her as the headache intensified, became unmanageable, and he knew that only one thing could end all of this.

He had to kiss his sweet, beloved Tess…right now.

****

Everyone had gone to bed, except Max, who was sorting through some CD’s on the floor, and Riley who had gone to tell Anna goodnight before he and Tess left on their patrol. Max had been completely quiet, and Tess wondered what was happening in his mind.

And she also wondered, as she thumbed absently through her magazine, why she felt so very disconcerted by the idea that Marco and Liz were alone in the next room. She had a terrible sense of foreboding and couldn’t shake it at all.

But before she could question it further, there was a muffled shriek from the room where they were, followed by a crashing sound. Max’s head jerked up sharply, his eyes widening with a panicked expression she couldn’t quite read, and then he rushed ahead of her into the bedroom.

Tess followed quickly behind and was shocked to see that Marco’s forehead was bleeding dramatically, where Liz had obviously cut him with the hairclippers. But worse than that was the expression on Liz’s face, how pale she looked and how very upset.

"What happened?" Max demanded heatedly, his voice edged with tight anger, as he stepped close to where Marco stood.

Yet Tess sensed that Max already knew exactly what had happened in their bedroom--and she also knew this was the reason she’d been so uncomfortable for the past twenty minutes.

Marco’s face crumpled in such obvious agony, as he wiped at the terrible gash on his forehead, that Tess knew some boundary had just been crossed…irrevocably.

And in the quietest recesses of her mind, she swore she heard Marco call one unfamiliar name desperately, over and over, as if it were a lifeline.