She nods, her gaze fixed on the floor. “I get it. It’s not like you like me.”
The words hit me like a physical blow. I stare at her, completely thrown. “Why do you think that?”
She lets out a short laugh that sounds more like a sob. “C’mon, Damon.”
“No,” I say, taking a step toward her. I’m serious now. “Why do you think that?”
“Because you’ve never made a move,” she says, finally looking up at me, her eyes flashing with a mix of anger and hurt. “Not until… you know.”
“Before I fucked you, you mean?” The words are crude, intentional. I want to see her reaction.
A flush creeps up her neck, staining her cheeks pink. She looks away again. “That’s not what I meant.”
“It’s what you said.” I move closer, closing the distance between us until I’m standing right in front of her. I can feel the heat coming off her body. “I thought you were gorgeous. The first time I saw you. But I also knew you weren’t interested.”
“Damon,” she whispers, a warning.
“Were you interested in me, Caroline?” I growl. I’m not letting this go. I need to know.
She swallows, the movement visible in her throat. “This is complicated.”
“Were you?” I repeat, my gaze locked on hers.
“I don’t know,” she breathes out, and it’s barely audible.
I reach out, my hand cupping her cheek. Her skin is hot, almost feverish. “Look at me.”
She slowly lifts her eyes to meet mine. They’re dazed, confused, but there’s something else there too.Desire.
Fuck.
She’s so beautiful. Even like this, disheveled and shaky, she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
“I have thought about kissing you every single day,” I confess. “For weeks. It’s been torture.”
“Damon,” she blinks, her lips parting slightly.
I lean in, my gaze dropping to her mouth. I’m going to do it. I’m going to finally taste her again.
My phone rings.
The sound is shrill and slices through the tension in the room. I want to ignore it. I want to throw it against the wall and take what I want. But I can’t. Not when I see the name on the screen.
I pull away from her, the loss of contact a physical ache. I swipe to answer, holding the phone to my ear. “Maggie, what is it?”
“Sheriff, it’s bad,” she says, her voice high and tight with panic. “Martha Hartwell just called it in. The pies at the Brass Lantern just exploded. All of them.”
“Shit.” I run a hand through my hair, my mind already shifting gears.
“It’s not just that,” she rushes on. “The Rift is flaring. Violent. Right in the town square. And people are saying their familiars are going wild, attacking everything in sight.”
I close my eyes for a second. “Any word from Noah?”
“Not yet, but there’s someone else waiting for you,” Maggie says. “Silas is in your office.”
“Of course he is,” I mutter. “I’m on my way.”
I hang up and turn back to Caroline. She’s standing with her arms wrapped around herself, her face pale with concern. “Is everything okay?”
