Infinity + One

So they stood in the line, keeping their faces averted, their eyes on each other, and waited to ride the roller coaster. They sat on the very back row—Finn had plotted exactly where they needed to be in the line to slip into the last car, and when the coaster began to collect speed, he pulled Bonnie’s face to his, and kissed and cradled her through the loops and turns, ignoring the ride and the wind whipping around them, his lips and tongue mimicking the climb and plunge of the ride, the pounding of the rails echoing the pounding in his chest, the squealing of the brakes on the final stretch reminding him that the ride was over, for now, and another was just beginning.

THIS JUST IN. We have confirmation that Bonnie Rae Shelby and Infinity James Clyde were spotted in Las Vegas on Saturday, and that a marriage license was issued for one Bonita Rae Shelby and Infinity James Clyde, putting to rest speculation that the singer was an unwilling accomplice in the crime spree that spreads across the US. It’s not surprising that Bonnie Rae Shelby’s album and download sales have hit record-breaking levels as people are tuning into this story. Reports of sightings of Infinity Clyde and Bonnie Rae Shelby have started to pour in from literally all over the country. Everyone is transfixed with this story, and no one seems to know what to believe. Is this a case of a beautiful young superstar being kidnapped and held against her will? Or is this a scenario where a captive falls for her captor?

BONNIE’S EYES WERE wide and trusting, watching him. Studying him. For all her sass and her salt, she could be very sweet. Very tender. Very serious. She was perfectly still, abnormally so, and there was a flush to her cheeks that hadn’t been there before. He could see her pulse. It thrummed wildly, and somehow that settled his own nerves, knowing she was afraid. She shouldn’t be afraid. He would take care of her.

He walked toward her but stopped two feet in front of her, suddenly not eager to rush. Miraculously, a new bus had arrived in Primm, and they had boarded her without incident. In fact, the final four hours of their trip had gone seamlessly, contradicting Finn’s rising certainty that they would never make it to LA. But it had been the longest four hours of his life. He and Bonnie had both been vibrating with the rumbling bus the entire way there, adrenaline, lust and eager anticipation making the final stretch of their journey almost unbearable.

There had been no police waiting at the end of their journey, no Bonnie and Clyde style ambush outside the venerable hotel. Bonnie had called ahead, giving the concierge the name Bear had instructed her to give. Their cab was directed to a special entrance, and a doorman was waiting to escort them in a private elevator to the top floor. He hadn’t blinked or looked twice at either of them, his face as expressionless as a royal guard, and he took their garment bags with the utmost care and even bowed as Bonnie tipped him with a practiced hand. And then he’d left them in their suite, the most opulent rooms Finn had ever seen, and closed the double doors quietly behind him. They’d each taken a minute to freshen up in separate, luxurious bathrooms, and amazingly enough, Bonnie had finished before him and now stood in the center of the room as if she stood in the center of a stage, waiting for the music to begin.

It was after three o’clock in the morning, in a suite in a very famous hotel, the balcony doors slightly open to welcome in perfumed air to brush their fevered skin, and they were alone. Finally. Two feet apart and about ten feet from a huge, beautiful bed. Finn reached for Bonnie’s hand and twisted the little band that circled her finger.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, the question almost inaudible it was so soft.

Her eyes rose from their hands and held his, a small smile lifting one corner of her mouth. The she stepped forward and stood on her tiptoes placing her cheek to his, smooth against rough, and he kissed her neck, making her shiver.

“Mirrors,” she said in his ear.

“Mirrors?” he asked.

“Reflections,” she said.

Finn lifted his head, raising his eyes to the ceiling above the entire pedestaled sleeping area, to the mirrors that made the ceiling a reflection of the room below. He’d noticed them immediately when they’d walked into the well-appointed room. He was sure Bear hadn’t known about that feature when he’d booked the room for the two of them. He was quite sure he’d booked the suite because there was a fold out bed in the private sitting area and a door in between. It was a room fit for a rock star or a princess, or someone who was a little bit of both.

“Remember what I told you about mirrors? How sometimes it’s hard to look at my own reflection?” Bonnie asked.

“Yeah.” Finn caught his own gaze in the overhead mirrors as if he were looking down on himself. Bonnie lifted her eyes as well, and they stared at each other, at their upturned faces and clasped hands.

“When you’re with me, beside me, in front of a mirror, I don’t feel that way. When I’m standing next to you, I know exactly who I am. I don’t see Minnie. I don’t lose myself in memories of her. I just see us.”

Bonnie stopped as if she couldn’t continue, and he saw her chest lift and release, a steadying inhale and exhale, before she finished. “At the boutique, I saw you standing behind me, beside me, and I felt whole. Not a piece, not a half, not a part. Whole.”

It was her turn to twist the ring on his finger. “So now . . . I’m thinking about mirrors. And watching you make love to me.” And she looked away from his reflection above her head and met his gaze, and Finn had to close his eyes and concentrate, committing himself to care so that he didn’t toss her bodily onto the bed and ruin the only first time they would ever have. He must have worn an intensely focused expression because Bonnie smoothed the groove between his scowling brows with her fingertips.