C. Omololu - Intuition

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs, his lips still on mine. “God, I’m so sorry I was such an ass.” He pulls back slightly and buries his face in my neck, and I reach up to run my fingers through his short hair, feeling the soft fuzz instead of the curls I’m used to, not wanting this moment to end. For a second I feel dizzy and I’m afraid that I might be drifting into a memory, but then everything comes back into sharp focus. With Griffon, there is no past to fall back on, no memories of another relationship, no expectations to meet. With him it’s all about what’s now and what’s next.

“It wasn’t all your fault,” I say, my voice wavering and uncertain as I speak.

“It was,” he says, reaching down to brush a strand of hair away from my face. “I almost let Drew ruin the best thing that’s ever happened to me. All because of something that took place hundreds of years ago that had nothing to do with you. It was stupid. I knew you weren’t seeing him. But I needed it to be your decision. I couldn’t live the rest of my life with what might have been hanging over us.”

“Why couldn’t you just be honest with me? Just tell me what happened in the past that was so bad.”

Griffon hesitates. “I should have. It was a long time ago in Italy. I fell for someone who was dealing with a relationship in the past. It . . . it didn’t work out so well for me, and I was afraid to go through that kind of pain again.”

My memory flashes back to the woman at Drew’s party. Chiara. That’s what she’d said her name was when she knew Griffon. She’d also said he wasn’t the forgiving type. I put my fingers in his belt loops and pull him to me, wanting nothing but to feel him close again. We kiss and touch for a long time, our hands exploring familiar territory that at the same time is completely new. Without a doubt, I can do this forever. A passing car honks at us and I pull away, the happiness that’s building up inside barely contained. “How about that ride to the beach?”

Griffon smiles at me. “I’m cool staying here for the next couple of days.”

I push him gently. “Me too. Although I can think of a few more comfortable spots.” I picture his big, wide bed, shining with a square of afternoon sunlight, and have no doubt my face is red. “Come on, let’s go.”

I unlock the doors and put the top down, praying and then cheering when she starts the first time I turn the key.

Griffon buckles himself into the passenger side and grins at me. “I like it.”

Looking for a break in the traffic, I ease the car onto the road, smoothly switching gears like Dad taught me.

In a few short miles, we turn onto the Great Highway as the late afternoon sun sparkles on the waves below. I push down on the accelerator and the car gains speed, racing down the hill toward the beach. I’ve been on this road a million times, but it’s like I’m seeing it for the first time, not balancing on the rear seat peeking around Griffon’s back or watching out the window from the passenger side, but staring straight ahead, controlling every motion.

Griffon turns toward me, grabs my right hand, and gives it a gentle squeeze. I grin back at him with my hair blowing behind me, the asphalt speeding beneath me, and the horizon stretching in front of me, knowing that without a doubt, this moment, right now, is the best one of all.

A sequel is like a middle child—people make an extra effort to let it know that it’s loved. This manuscript was loved by many people who helped make it a reality:

My agent, Erin Murphy, who always answers e-mails in a day, anguished ones in minutes.

My editor, Mary Kate Castellani, who knows what I want to say and then helps me say it.

My publisher, Emily Easton, and the team at Walker for supporting all of us from the very start.

My amazing friend Daisy Whitney, who is the guru of my writing life and always makes me rethink my footwear choices.

My writer friends Malinda Lo, Gabrielle Charbonnet, Cheryl Herbsman, and Robin Mellom, who always “get it.”

My friends Karen Ryan, Jessica Romero, Barbara Stewart, and Jill Raimondi, who know nothing about writing but everything about friendship.

My neighbors Denise, Ed, Juliet, and Lukas for loaning me Griffon’s memory and their unflagging support.

My family—Mom, Joe, Dad, Suzanne, and Jessica, for their constant interest and cheerleading. And my sister Wendy for naming her sons Connor and Griffin.

My boys, Jaron and Taemon, for being the most understanding kids a writer can have and not minding my constant muttering.

My husband, Bayo, for holding down our lives when I’m mentally elsewhere. I couldn’t do it without you.

My readers—your e-mails and tweets about the sequel kept me going in the middle of the night.

Also by C. J. Omololu

Dirty Little Secrets

Transcendence

Copyright © 2013 by C. J. Omololu

All rights reserved

You may not copy, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (including without limitation electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, printing, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages

First published in the United States of America in June 2013 by Bloomsbury Publishing Plc

Published in the United States of America in June 2013

by Bloomsbury Children’s Books

www.bloomsbury.com

This electronic edition published in June 2013

For information about permission to reproduce selections from this book, write to

Permissions, Bloomsbury Children’s Books, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, New York 10010

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Omololu, Cynthia Jaynes.

Intuition / C.J. Omololu.

pages cm

Sequel to: Transcendence.

Summary: Events from Cole’s past life in sixteenth-century England begin

to intrude on her blossoming romance with Griffon.

ISBN 978-0-8027-2371-0 (hardcover) • ISBN 978-0-8027-3464-8 (e-book)

[1. Reincarnation—Fiction. 2. Supernatural—Fiction. 3. Secret societies—Fiction. 4. Love—Fiction.] I. Title.

PZ7.O54858In 2013 [Fic]—dc23 2013014753

eISBN: 978-0-8027-3464-8