“I wanted to ask, what sorts of behaviors might constitute a third-act break up between us?”
She presses her lips together, to bite down her smile.
“What is it?” I ask.
“N-nothing.” She clears her throat. “It’s just… Well.First, we’d have to actually be dating in order to break up, and in caseyou didn’t know, what we’re doing isn’t that. I’ll let you know ifthatever enters this story. Second, if we ever do get so far, there won’tbea third-act. A break up would be a break up. I’m not so fickle that I would ever break up with someone I’ve chosen to be with before I’ve tried everything else.Breaking upisn’t a knee-jerk reaction. It’s the last resort.”
If that isn’t the most terrifying thing I’ve heard all day. “So…what would prompt that last resort?”
“Cheating, obviously. Boredom, of course. I think I’ve been clear that so long as the toxic doesn’t leave me in a state of mind-numbing boredom, it’s not gonna be the trigger.” Her thoughts drift as she considers. “If you hit me without consent, that’d do it, too, though. There are different levels in the toxic that I’m willing to tolerate or even enjoy, and physical altercations are clear off the list.”
I stare. Then I parrot, “Without consent.”
August’s lashes flutter.
My heart races. “I can promise you that non-consensual violence is not remotely a concern.”
“I don’t think it would be, but I’m just saying. You asked a question. This is the answer. If December, Wynn, or Granee didn’t like you, that’d probably end it, too. December’s disapproval is self-explanatory, and Granee’s obsessed with getting me hitched, so if she decides she isn’t actually all about us being together, I should probably rub two brain cells together and understand what that means.”
That makes impeccable sense. “And your brother holds the same weight as them?”
“He’s a guy. He’s probably not gonna care what I’m doing in my love life unless it’s serious, so if he does care, it’s probably serious enough that I should reassess my life choices.” August flashes a brilliant grin toward me. “Basically, if you’re secretly a toxic mess, please make sure to keep the good boy act up infront of my family and friends so long as you wish to continue associating with me—because I feel I should remind you in case you missed it, we arenotpresently a couple. So there’s no need to worry about breaking up.”
Right. We’re not a couple. We’re just a vampire and his obsession-slash-enemy, battling to the death under the guise of enjoying one another’s company. I bet this isn’t even a date; it’s likely a scheme to bring about my demise.
Reaching for my glass of Coca Cola, I run my finger through the condensation and lift the weeping thing to my lips. “Speaking of secrets…”
August perks. “Yes? Secrets?”
“Would keeping things from you result in a break up—should we ever create something that could be broken?”
She gasps. “You’re keeping things from me?”
“Probably.”
Excitement sparkles in her eyes. “How? It’s been days. Literallydays. And you’ve already confessed undying love. What else could there possibly be?”
“I wonder. But. I suppose your answer to my question determines how much you learn right now.”
She’s humming, vibrating, chewing her lip, and studying me. “Are they secrets that would hurt me?”
“I would hope not. I never want to hurt you.”
“The plot thickens,” she whispers, glowing.
My heart can hardly handle this. Bathed in the summer sun, dressed in clothes I bought for her, seated in this elegant restaurant, withme…she is a vision to behold.
And she’svibrating. “I hate being told what can be shown or decoded from the surrounding narrative. We both already know I’m not a very offendable person, so as long as you don’t think that whatever secrets you’re keeping would hurt me, I’m excited to figure them out on my own. Furthermore, it’s beenmere days since we met, so you really don’t owe me anything, yet your wording implies that if I weren’t a fan of secrets, you’d disclose whatever portion you feel comfortable sharing with someone who is still an absolute stranger right now.” She leans forward, palms planted beneath her chin. “Whatever happens, I take responsibility, and I have to say…” Her cheeks tinge pink in the afternoon sunlight washing through the dazzling wall of windows. “…I like that your brain knew to give me a choice. Not to give you any undue hope, but I think you’re…fun. Not just fun, though. I don’t know. I think yougetme.”
Hope strangles me as I fight to maintain my composure. My soda burns on its way down my throat after I sip. Setting the glass on its coaster, I hold the picture of effortless vampiric confidence in my brain and pray my tongue gets the memo. “I assume this means I am so far living up to the standards of your perfect male lead?”
She ponders that for a moment, then her cheeks deepen in hue. “I like when you’re more aggressive, but I understand maintaining dignity in public spaces.” Her dark gaze holds mine. “Youloveme, right?”
“Yes,” I confirm. “I do.”
“Then strive to obsess and starve.Makeme love you. Bring me to the brink of affection and push me off. You’re careful. I appreciate that. But you don’t need to be. Take as many chances as you’d like. I’m happiest when I don’t know what’s coming next.”
Chancesare not my forte. Chances don’t fit well into the cells of a spreadsheet. The closest I get tochanceis via the use of statistical estimation, and even then, there are margins of error for a reason. I may not always be able to conclude exacts, but I do know precisely the range of data I can expect from previous information.
