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I yawned. “Before you so rudely interrupted me with sex?”
“Yep.”
I turned over to face him, balancing on my elbows as my hair fell back over my shoulders. “Why are you so weird around me?”
He frowned and paused midnuzzle. “What do you mean?”
“You’re nice one minute, and then the next, you’re running into your house like your arse is on fire to avoid me. When we do talk, you’re funny and charming and sweet, but then I haven’t been able to talk to you that often over the last few weeks, because you hide out in your side of the house.”
“I thought you were going to ask me if they looked real,” he said, nodding toward my chest. “Which they do.”
“And when I ask you anything the least bit personal, you deflect with a dirty joke.”
“Force of habit.”
“Well, cut it out.”
“I’m used to having my family living on all sides. I’ve never had a hot neighbor before. I don’t know how to act when I like someone and she’s living so close. I figured if I was always at your door, asking you over for dinner, I would come across like a crazy stalker.” His face was suddenly so serious, little worry lines forming around his mouth in an expression like regret. “I like you, so much more than I expected, and it’s made things more difficult than they should be.”
“So you like me too much?” I asked, skeptical.
“I think so,” he said, his tone surprised, as if he hadn’t thought about this until now.
Well, it was a reason. It wasn’t a good reason, but I would accept it.
He shifted on the mattress, running a hand down the length of my side to curve over my hip. He ran the tips of his fingers over the small of my back, stroking the base of my spine. “Now I have a question for you.”
“Is it about my snoring?” I asked.
“No.”
“Then go ahead.”
“Why the hell are you here?” he asked. “Why would a girl move from the big city to Middle-of-Nowhere, Kentucky? And don’t tell me change of scenery. Because no scenery could be that bad that you’d move to the Hollow.”
I’m a witch on the hunt for magical artifacts that will guarantee our continued magical domination over an evil former branch of our family.
Well, I should probably phrase it some other way.
I looked up at him, tracing the contours of his cheekbones with my fingertips. I’d omitted or outright lied to him about so many things. Lying to Jed weighed on me more than I’d expected. I wanted to tell him the truth for once, about this one little thing. I didn’t have to tell him about witchcraft or where I was really from, but I could give him this tiny bit of truth.
“I have family in the Hollow,” I said, carefully lacing my fingers through his. “I only found out about them a few months ago. My mother never knew her dad. It was always this big family secret we were never even supposed to ask about. My grandmother died recently, and right before she passed, she shared his name with me. Have you heard of Gilbert Wainwright, the man who owned the house before Dick?”
Jed’s eyebrows rose. “Really?”
I nodded. “It turns out my grandfather died a while ago but left behind other relatives. Aunts and uncles and cousins,” I said, thinking of my vampire friends and the more trustworthy branch of the Lavelle clan. “And I wanted to get to know that side of my family.”
“So you never knew this whole section of your family existed, and bam, instant aunts and uncles?” he asked, propping his head against a pillow. “What’s that like?”
“Bizarre,” I admitted with a sniffle. He was quiet for a long moment, staring at me and running his fingertips down the length of my cheek.
“Family can be that way. Bizarre, I mean. Have I ever told you about the time my brother Jim threw a dart at my head and put me in an eye patch for two months?” he asked, rolling me onto my side and pulling my back against his chest.
“How would you have possibly told me about that?” I chuckled.
“Don’t laugh. I made that eye patch look good,” he grumbled, jostling me. “Had to wear the damn thing on school picture day. So this is the story of how Jed learned when Jim says, ‘Duck,’ to take him seriously.”
“Are you telling me an absurd, painful story about your childhood to make me feel less awkward about this postcoital confessional?” I sniffed.
