Gray crosses his arms. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“Did you save me because… because you thought I was her?” I ask, even though I don’t think I want to know the answer.
“Would it make a difference if I said yes? You’re alive.”
My body goes completely still. He’s so nonchalant, as if I should be grateful for the mix-up. “Only because you thought I was someone else!”
The tension in the room thickens. Gray’s face sharpens, his eyes narrowing to slits as he stalks toward me with a slow, intended purpose. For the first time since we met, I see him forwhat he is: A creature meant to be feared. A new look doesn’t change any of that, it just makes him more dangerous. I don’t realize I’ve backed away from him until my back hits the wall. He hovers above me, one arm caging me in.
“Don’t make the mistake of thinking that I am anythingotherthan what I am.”
“Rude?” I swallow.
A small, humorless smile steals his perfect lips. “Vampire.”
“I didn’t forget.” Admittedly? In the middle of coloring his hair, I kind of did forget.
“Are you sure?” Cool fingers race along one of my arms as his other hand curls around my wrist. The breath leaves my lungs when he brings its bare underside to his lips. “Perhaps you need reminding.”
“You said… you said you wouldn’t bite me,” I stammer, but he ignores me.
“Did I?” He feigns confusion, then opens his mouth to reveal all four of his perfectly sharp fangs. I suck in a breath and brace myself for the impact of his bite. Twice now he’s had me cornered in my own home, and dammit if I don’t find it both annoying and hot.
Just bite me, I want to say.Bite me and get it over with.
But he doesn’t. Instead, Gray places a very light kiss against my wrist and releases me. With a taunting look, he says, “You’re too trusting.”
The desire to throttle him overtakes me, and just as I’m ready to swing, the alarm on my phone goes off. He takes a step back, and I almost collapse. I didn’t realize how badly I was shaking until now.
“Shower,” I say, unable to move away from the wall. “Now.”
“Say no more,” he says and blurs down the hall before I can blink.
When Gray emerges from the bathroom, I’ve eaten a box of three-day-old cold takeout, and changed twice from nerves. I needed something that wasn’t soaked in my sweat, so I settled on a nightdress stuffed in the back of my intimate drawer. It was a decent idea at first, but now I’m all too aware of how much skin I’m showing. I consider changing again when the bathroom door opens and Gray walks out, shirtless, brand new black joggers riding dangerously low on his perfectly shaped hips.
“All done,” he says. His wet hair is dripping down his shoulders, trailing little beads of water from his face to his chest. For a moment, my composure slips, and I wonder what those little beads would taste like on my tongue.
Icoulduse a drink after all those leftovers.
“Now what?” he asks.
“Towel,” I say with a slight shake of my head. Gray passes the towel he’s holding into my waiting hands and I direct him back to the chair he was in before. “Sit please.”
With a huff, he falls back into the seat, and I take up myposition behind him. The color looks nice, and the more I towel it off, the drier and lighter it gets. I’ve got a few hair products for styling sitting on the low table beside me, so I start with a bottle of mousse. After a few minutes of tugging, pulling, and sculpting, I clap my hands together with finality. I hurry back around and offer the mirror to him again.
“I gotta say, it turned out better than I expected.” I mean it, too. His hair really took to the color I chose. Dark gray roots fade into silver and then white, with the body of his hair framing his face in a way that compliments its shape. He looks like a different person. Without the long curtain of hair to hide him anymore, I can clearly make out his high cheekbones and the defined line of his jaw. There’s a sharp quality to his face, softened somehow by the curve of his lips, which are full and pouty. I don’t know how I didn’t notice it before, but he’s more than just good-looking. Apart from the innate vampire charm, he’s heart-achingly beautiful.
“What do you think?” I ask, threading my fingers together over my chest. I’m only slightly nervous to know what he thinks.
Gray, holding the mirror, turns his head from side to side and runs his fingers along his hairline to his jaw. He smiles, and it makes my stomach flip. Finally, he says, “After a hundred years? I’ve never looked better.”
Gods, what a relief. I can’t imagine what he would have done if he didn’t like it. At least now I can add this to my resume as ‘experience in coloring the undead’s hair.’ That has to count for something, right?
“Well done,” he says and sets the mirror down on the low table. “You’re very good at what you do.”
“Hm.” I sniff, pursing my lips. “I think I deserve a reward for all of my hard work this evening.”
“Do you?” Gray asks, a teasing edge to his voice. It’s different from earlier when he had me up against the wall. That felt like a warning. This time, he’s playing into it, and with gusto.
