AwesomeSauce220 – Isn't need by Carrie something? That's just a guess off the top of my head, though. Haha. (: Ah, sorry about the inaccurate number. I decided to reread Significance, but I'm already towards the end and just guesstimated from memory. (By the way, I have to add that guesstimated came up as a rightly-spelled word on my spell check. Amazing!) As for the quotations around the sign language, I struggled with how to portray it. I generally use italics when they are speaking to each other in their minds. Every time they sign, I try to let you know (though I probably missed some) or you can assume they're signing if they know how to sign because it's easier to understand than reading lips, particularly when they're having a private conversation. (:

BreeTico – I liked it better, too, actually. It's better to just lay all the information out flat. Plus, Derek's sort of a "I'mma tell you now" type of person. Lol (:

Complete Chocoholic – Thank you! And honestly, writing chapter two was easier and took less time than chapter one. I'm a hopeless sucker for romance, especially a good paranormal romance. Thanks for the review. (:

The Significance Series belongs to Shelly Crane.

3: Trust

Trust a stranger, or turn around and run as far as I could? That was the question. Derek Stanton – if that was even his name – held my hand tightly in between both of his. And just as he had said, I did feel a calming sensation wash through me like pulsing waves. How was he doing that to me? How was it possible that he made me feel something like this? It wasn't an emotion that could be swayed by the situation and my current state of mind. It was a physical feeling, like when you got a paper cut and it burned. But instead of being painful, it was pleasant, like I couldn't get enough of it.

And I think that sort of scared me more. I was, by definition, a codependent person. I didn't have a driver's license, I couldn't go to restaurants and other places alone because I could never understand what a person was saying to me, and I was generally unable to have a job that would allow me to pay for my own apartment. But even so, I tried to be as independent as possible. I had wanted to be able to move out after I graduated. I had wanted to be able to attend whatever college that I'd wanted to – specifically an art school, for music. But I couldn't do that, so I settled for washing my own clothes at the house, cooking my own dinner on most occasions, and buying new clothes with the pay I earned working at my mom's store. And even though she knew that it was what I wanted, my mom had never been able to not hover around me as if I couldn't do things on my own.

And now, I was scared that this situation, this imprint that Derek Stanton had said had marked itself on the both of us, meant that I could never have that sense of independency that I had always wanted.

Gripping the note that he had written me in my free hand, I read over it again. Derek kneeled quietly in front of me, his fingers still wrapped completely around my hand. And honestly, it was comfortable. Any other person and I was sure that I would be pulling away as quickly as I could. But I liked the feeling of his hand around mine. My eyes roved over the note for a millionth time, taking in everything that it said.

How do you just accept something like that? He was telling me that he was a human with superhuman abilities, a man that depended on finding a soul mate that he expected to spend his forever with. He was telling me that without him nearby to keep away some sort of withdrawal, I was going to feel an incredible pain. He was telling me that I was supposed to swallow his explanation that we were soul mates and flit along after him like a brainless groupie.

I slowly pulled away from him, my hand slipping from his grasp. What was that pang I felt in my chest? Was it actually a physical pain from separating myself from him? I carefully folded up the note he had written to me, scooting my chair back a little bit, staring down at the square of white paper in my hands. Supposedly, it held the answer to my future.

I might as well have admitted it: I was confused. My body was telling me one thing and my rational mind was telling me another. If I listened to my heart, it was telling me to look back at the times when I couldn't keep my eyes off of him. It was reminding me of the moments when I'd thought that my attraction to him was unusual, even for me. It was pounding with the very thought that this guy sitting in front of me was made for me. And then there were the visions that I had seen and the emotions that I had felt. He could possibly be the knight in shining armor that would sweep me off my feet and carry me to the castle where we would live happily ever after. It was ridiculous. My hopelessly romantic side was slipping out as I stared at the square of a note.

I struggled to push it back into the box and think about it rationally with my brain. My brain had failed me in the past, sure – the most starring moment was when it decided that, as an eleven-year-old, I would be able to easily drive a go-kart – but I would rather wallow in pity from a conscious decision instead of jumping into something that was completely off the wall and something that was very nearly impossible to believe. My mind was saying that I was stupid for even thinking about this with such intensity. That I was insane for thinking that maybe, just maybe, he was being completely honest with me. It was telling me that I needed to call my mother in from the back office or begin praying that Xavier would return soon with my orange chicken.

And I still sat there, completely unsure of what I was going to do and how I was going to orchestrate my answer once I had it. Still just as confused as I was to begin with, I slowly looked up at him. I realized that his hands were resting on the arms of my chair, close to my thighs. My eyes took in the way his knees nearly touched my shins, the way his shirt was open at the collar, the dark blue complementing the warm tone of his skin. The leather straps that created his necklace had a single pendant hanging from them. It was a flat disk with some raised marking on it. It sort of looked like a flame with three distinctive points on it, on tall wavering one in the middle and two shorter ones on either side. It was perfectly symmetrical, so that if it were folded in half they would be exact copies. My eyes stayed on it for a moment before going up to his face, skimming over the slight shadow on his jaw, over the thick, black hair that I was dying to run my fingers through, and over his proud nose. And then my eyes met his, and I was lost.

Derek Stanton had eyes that I had been dreaming about. Not only was their color unnervingly different from any that I had ever seen before, but it was like I could read his every thought and emotion in them. Eyes truly are the windows to the soul. Most people keep their soul as guarded as possible. Sarcasm, pride, and cynical outlooks on life push people away, preventing them from getting too close. Souls are hidden from others. But Derek's eyes were clear and open, allowing me to see directly into who he was. And from what I saw there, he was being completely truthful. Honesty was the forefront of his mind. And there was something else that I never would have thought that I would see from him, a guy that seemed arrogant and aloof. He was begging me to believe him, to step into his good graces and let him talk me into whatever he had in mind.

But I was starting to believe that he wasn't trying to talk me into anything. He was just trying to tell me the honest truth, and he was hoping that I would believe him because it was real. And just looking into his eyes made my decision for me. It didn't really matter whether or not he was lying to me anymore. It was like I had suddenly become one of those girls that didn't care if their dream guy was some werewolf or vampire or twisted paranormal creature. I didn't care, because a part of me was already lost to him.

I opened my mouth to tell him that. Well, not that specifically, but that I believed him. That I would give him the chance to really prove it to me. I didn't get the chance to, though, because the front door burst open. I didn't hear it, but Derek did, and his gaze shot to the small surveillance TV screen underneath the counter by the computer monitor. I looked at it too and saw Xavier standing in the doorway, holding a bag of Chinese food. I looked up over the counter, unsure if he could see Derek kneeling in front of me behind the counter. By the way Xavier had acted about the guy that was, supposedly, my soul mate, I doubted that he would be pleased to see him behind the counter.

Derek was apparently a quick thinker. He reached for the boxes that I had tripped over and run into multiple times. Gathering them up in his arms, he stood up and balanced them together. Standing up, I darted a glance over to Xavier. His fingers had tightened on the plastic straps of the bag that our Chinese food at come in. I glanced over at Derek and he looked directly at me, forming his words very clearly. "Where do you want me to put these?" He asked. Our eyes locked together for a moment, and I could see the slight panic in his gaze. I was aware of the fact that my heart was pounding in my chest a million miles a minute. Derek looked a little breathless and a little uncomfortable, as if something was bothering him.

"The storage room," I answered, standing up to get out of my chair. "I'll show you where to put them." The chair spun a little bit as I nearly jumped out of the chair. I found myself wanting to grab a hold of Derek and lead him to the storage room, if only so I could open a channel in between us. It seemed that he was correct when he said that his touch brought me calmness and peace. Instead I just turned and pushed my chair back in so he could have a clear walkway. He stepped past me and my chair as I looked up at Xavier.

My best friend/possible boyfriend/sort of kind of love interest looked at me with an expression that said he was hurt. I wasn't exactly sure why. All he saw was Derek carrying a load of boxes for me. Maybe it was because he thought that I'd rather have a random stranger help me than wait around for him to help lug the boxes to the storage room. Maybe it was because he could see that there was something about Derek that made me a little… I don't know. Was loopy the right word?

I gave Xavier a small smile, hoping that it looked realistic enough that he would stay here and unpack the food bag while I showed Derek where to put the boxes. I was just hoping that I could have the chance to talk to him a little more. Xavier's eyes darted to the back office where my mom was working, probably ordering whatever we were low on and possibly talking to her boyfriend, a really nice, slightly awkward guy named Cal.

Before Xavier could set down the bag of food to sign any questions to me, I turned my back and headed towards the storage room. Derek was waiting beside the counter, his arms full of the boxes. I thought I saw the flash of a smile as I looked up at him before brushing past him and leading the way to the storage room. I pushed open the door and swept my arm across the entrance. Derek stepped inside and I followed, letting the door partly close behind me.

"Put the boxes there," I said, pointing towards the farthest corner of the storage room. After a moment, I added, "Please." He did as I directed, carefully setting the boxes down in their haphazard pile. He turned to face me, brushing off the front of his shirt. I let my eyes rove over him for a moment longer. It didn't matter if he was making his way to clinically insane, and dragging me down with him, I took the chance to appreciate the view.

He turned to face me. I immediately bit down on my lip and raised my gaze to meet the eyes that had changed my perceptions of him. Eyes that would, no doubt, change the rest of my life. A small, slightly awkward smile flashed across his face. His eyes asked me if I had made my decision yet. Did I believe him? Or was I going to send him packing?

"I believe you," I said. I had intended for my words to sound strong in a way that would let him know that any of his funny business would be met with domestic war. I didn't have any brothers to back me up, but my mother could be downright vicious, my father had one of the best lawyers in the entire city, and Xavier already looked like he was itching to pound his fist into Derek's face. Besides, I could hold my own, at least a little bit. I knew basic self-defense, like pounding someone's nose, biting their hand, and kneeing them where it hurt the most.

Derek sighed with relief, his shoulders raising momentarily as he took a deep breath before looking up to meet my gaze. A large smile touched his lips, showing white teeth. "Thank you," he said. Or, I guess he didn't really say. He was mouthing the words, but I had the feeling that he wasn't saying anything. Xavier was sure to take a moment to eavesdrop.

I looked up at him, searching his face for a moment before realizing that the only thing I knew about him was that his name was Derek Stanton, he played the guitar in a band, and that he was, apparently some sort of supernatural human who had imprinted with me. Little ole' deaf me. But he had no idea who I was. He didn't even know my name. And for the first time, I thought about how scary this was for him. Surely he wasn't panicking like I was, since he was the supernatural one. He knew what was going on, supposedly, and I didn't. But I was as much of a stranger to him as he was to me. And I found myself actually feeling a little giddy about the entire thing. A clean slate. A new start.

I held out my hand and said, "I'm Emily. Emily Bryson."

I could see the smile that crossed his face and the way that his lips moved when he repeated my name. And even though I couldn't hear his voice repeating my name, I felt the chills go down my spine when I realized that he did. He looked around, and I figured that he was searching for another piece of paper. He had figured out that the best way to give me a bunch of information at once was just to write it down. I dug in my jeans pocket and pulled out the folded up piece of paper he'd already given me. I held it out to him, and he smiled at my gratefully. I reached for the back of the door, where my mom kept a clipboard with notes and a pen. I handed him the pen, and he uncapped it and bent over the page.

I tried to seem unbothered by what was, technically, an awkward silence. My eyes ran over the empty boxes stored in the very back of the room to the still-taped boxes that held my mom's inventory in the front of the room. Glancing down at the shiny cement floor, I decided that the room definitely needed to be swept. After a good minute, Derek held out the sheet to me. He'd just added on to whatever he had written earlier.

Emily, I'm glad you believe me. I know that it's insane, especially for someone like you. I grew up knowing about this. The majority of imprints are between people that know all about Aces, since Aces generally only imprint with each other. You are fully human and haven't been introduced into this world. I can only imagine how weird it really is. Two imprinted people are called significants. I am your significant, and you are mine. We are in tune with each other in a way that allows me to read you and you to read me.

But here's the thing. You need me as much as I need you. It will be worse for you, though. You are human. The withdrawals will make you feel like you are sick with the flu. I'll need to see you every few hours, at least. Without my touch, you will continue to live through the withdrawals. And without your touch, I'll suffer along with you.

This may freak you out, but I will always know where you are. You feel that heartbeat of yours? I can feel it, too, in my chest. It's so I can protect you. I know when you are scared and when you're nervous, and when you panic, I'll be able to follow it to where you are. It's my duty to protect and care for you.

The easiest way for you to be introduced into this life is to meet my family. If there is any doubt that you have in me, once you meet them you'll see that I'm not some insane stalker and you are not crazy. This is real, and this is life. I don't have the time to tell you everything I need to, even though I should just tell you all right now so you won't have any confusion. But I can't. But I will give you my cell phone number. You can text me any questions you have. But be warned, you can't tell anyone about Aces or the imprint. We have to stay under the radar.

I looked up and gave him a slight nod. He seemed relieved that I was agreeing to this. I had no idea who he was, and I was allowing myself to meet his family. But how could I possibly fight with the fact that I felt something for him? I wanted to trust him. I wanted to hand my life over to him and know that it was completely safe. I wanted to touch him – his face, his hair. I wanted to press my lips to his cheek, if not his lips.

The emotions were so intense that I couldn't just ignore them. Whatever I had felt was real to me, and that had to mean something. I looked down at his number, printed clearly across the bottom of the page. I thought about giving him my number in return but decided that it would just be safer for me to hold onto his. If I felt these pains or whatever he said I was going to feel, then I would text him because God knew calling was out of the question for me. He would have my number the moment I sent him a text message. But until then, he wasn't getting any digits out of me.

He stepped closer to me, and instead of feeling any fear, like I usually did when a guy stepped closer to me than I was used to (especially with Derek being, technically, a stranger) I felt myself lean forward a little bit. It was like we were opposite ends of a magnet, drawing closer to each other. I found myself wondering if we were the type of magnets that were extremely hard to pull apart, or if it was just the light pull that could easily be ignored.

Derek took another step closer. I could feel his hands touch mine gently, as if he wasn't really sure that I would pull away from him. I found that I didn't have it in me to pull away from him. If anything, I wanted to step closer and wrap my arms around him. But I didn't, because he was a stranger, and that would be weird. But that didn't stop the two of us from drifting into each other's personal space. He dipped forward a little bit, and I had the feeling that he was going to kiss me. My heart sped up in my chest over it. My mind was telling me that I needed to step back and slap him across the face for thinking that he could introduce himself and then get close to me. But the majority of me practically sang at it. My head tipped back on its own accord, and my eyelids shut.

I could feel his breath on my face, but no kiss ever came. I opened my eyes to find that Derek had frozen, just a few inches away from my face. If I really wanted to, I could stand up on my tiptoes and press my lips to his. And I did really want to. But then again, there was that whole pesky piece of information that said it was stupid of me to kiss a man that I had barely met. Derek let out a sigh, his eyes shut. He took a step back, shaking his head. A part of me was interested in the fact that his hair wasn't messed up by the movement. It still didn't curb the urge that I had to run my fingers through it, though. Derek reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose, and after a moment he opened his eyes and looked at me.

He formed his words very carefully and a little slowly. I wanted to tell him that he didn't have to act like I wouldn't understand him, but it did make it easier for me to read his lips. "Sorry," he muttered the word, his eyes not meeting mine. He reached out, and for a moment I had the hope that he was going to grab me up in a hug. Instead, he just tapped the note that I had already refolded. "Text me if you need me. I have to tell my family about this."

I nodded. Neither of us moved though. Instead, we just stared at each other. I had the feeling that something momentous might happen, but before either of us moved, the door to the storage room pushed open. Xavier looked a little angry and a little shocked, but he tried his best to hide it, leaning against the doorjamb. I couldn't help but flash him a short glare. Xavier shrugged a little angrily, his gaze narrowing on Derek. I realized that we were still standing incredibly close, closer than even two friends stood on a regular basis. This was best friend/boyfriend territory that Derek was invading, and Xavier obviously didn't like it.

Derek gave me a smile that said so much more than friendship. His eyes searched mine for a moment before he nodded and stepped towards the open door. He paused at the counter to grab the guitar picks he had bought. We both turned to go our separate ways when I realized that I couldn't move. I couldn't even step forward. My eyes glanced wildly towards Derek, wondering if he was doing this to me. But he looked just as locked as I was. He looked over at me and smiled, his words clear on his lips. "It was nice to meet you, Emily. I'll see you later."

It was as if the air around me had been thick as syrup, and the moment that his words registered with me, it was like I could move again. The air around me seemed to stop holding me against my will, and I stumbled forward. Derek turned and, with a short wave in my general direction, he headed towards the front door. He turned right and headed down the sidewalk, disappearing from view. I found myself fighting to stay where I was instead of rushing to the door after him.

Derek couldn't make me feel anything. The emotions and thoughts that were rushing through me were all mine. So what did that mean for me?

The moment the door closed behind Derek, Xavier looked at me. I could tell that he was just dying to ask me whatever questions were on his mind. And I knew that he wasn't pleased with the fact that he had caught me in the storage room with another guy. I realized, just then, that I'd been thinking about kissing a boy in my mom's storage room. Xavier was the only boy that I had kissed back there. Did he think that I was cheating on him or something? We had never said that we were together. The kisses between us had been awkward at best and were usually forgotten. And there were only about five of them, maybe even less.

And I realized that when I was with Derek in that storage room, Xavier hadn't even crossed my mind. It had been all Derek, all the time. And that was a little bit scary.

I reached for the plastic bowl of orange chicken and popped the lid off, picking up a plastic fork to stir the chicken and the white rice. Xavier didn't say anything to me, and I could tell that he was angry. He just didn't want to sign something because it would mean that he was more curious than he was angry, and he didn't want me to know. I knew him well enough to decode his actions, though. And besides that, I had become an expert at reading people's body language. He really did want to know. I figured that I knew what he wanted to know, too. He wanted to know why Derek was hanging around, why I had an interest in him, why we had been standing so close to each other in the storage room.

As I finished my lunch and reached for the fortune cookie sitting in front of me, Xavier turned to look at me. He glanced at the office, where my mom was still locked away, before meeting my gaze. His hands moved quickly as he questioned me. "Who is he, and why do you look like you've seen Jesus?"

I choked on a laugh. Shaking my head, I cracked open the fortune cookie and pulled out the tiny slip of paper. On the back, it gave me a series of lucky numbers. I noticed that my age was on the list – nineteen – as was today's date, August thirtieth, which came up with both eight and thirty. Turning the slip over, I looked down at the slip of paper.

When I read it, I swallowed my laugh.

The future waits for you to come to it.

I hope you guys enjoyed chapter three! Excuse any grammatical/spelling errors, since I literally just finished typing this before I uploaded it. Also, please take the time to leave me a quick review in the box below. Thanks for taking the time to read this. Peace. (: