Page 87 of Never Invite a Vampire to Dinner

“See? Tedious.”

His mouth finally gives in, and I kiss him. It isn’t a desperate kiss. It doesn’t turn into Monday night or Tuesday night or what happened against my kitchen counter yesterday when Julian discovered that putting groceries away can apparently become an erotic activity if you are sufficiently committed to the task.

It’s just a kiss. His hands settle at my waist. Mine stay on his face.

When we separate, I look through the open doorway at the journals.

“There’s not one line in there where anyone wrote you down.”

Julian’s gaze follows mine.

“No.”

“Mabel said something this morning.”

“That is generally dangerous.”

“She said you don’t keep a friendship going on the big things because there aren’t enough of them.” He waits. “I have a calendar hanging beside my refrigerator.”

“I’ve seen it.”

“Your name is already on it.” His eyes come back to me. “Twice before Christmas. Three times if you count the Ellises, but technically that was work.”

“Penny.”

“I’m going to keep putting it there.”

He says nothing.

“In ink,” I add. “You’ll have to live with it.”

Something crosses his face. I’ve seen that expression before. Over Gran’s garlic bread. In the kitchen beside Marguerite’s pans. This time he doesn’t put it away.

“Thank you,” he says, and I kiss him again.

I stay until almost eleven. I read another twenty pages of 1809 while Julian sits in the front library with a book of his own. Eventually I move my chair out there because the hidden room is too small and because I don’t actually want to be alone while I read his life. He doesn’t watch my face. Mostly.

At ten-thirty I close the journal.

“I should go.”

“Yes.”

Neither of us moves, and I sigh.

“I have work in the morning.”

“Yes.”

“I’m going to be late for work if you keep looking at me like that.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I’m sitting in a chair.”

“You’re doing it provocatively.”

“I was unaware that was possible.”

“Everything you do is provocative now. It’s extremely inconvenient.”