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Sitting there with Adam was … quiet, restful. There was no dire emergency looming on the horizon. I didn’t have to monitor every expression, every word, carefully to keep from upsetting him. And I didn’t feel tempted to look inside his head, because his feelings were pinned right on his sleeve.
“It was nice of you to drop by with this … now lukewarm coffee.” I chuckled while I sipped.
His dimples flashed. “Well, I do what I can. Other than panic attacks stemming from spit-up, how have you been?”
“It’s … complicated.”
“Vampire stuff?” he asked.
I considered. Of all of the things I was dealing with—a distant and secretive boyfriend, my potentially murderous step-grandpa, the possible mental breakdown of my best friend, his mother’s attempted jumpstarting of my defunct biological clock—none of it had much to do with me being a vampire. “Not really.”
“But I could see how being a vampire would be, you know, complicated. I mean, where do you get your blood?” he asked. “And what time do you wake up every night? Is it difficult for you to be around people without wanting to feed on them?”
“Are you writing some sort of book report?” I asked, making him flash that mile-wide grin.
“I’m just curious,” he said. “You never know whether what you read in the news about vampires is true. But it seems you have to make so many adjustments, just to function.”
“It’s not that big of a deal,” I told him. “OK, yeah, it is, but it’s worth it, especially if it means I can stay here, in my home.”
“But you could do anything, go anywhere.”
“This is where I want to be.”
Nonplussed, Adam asked, “How did this start? How were you turned?”
“It’s not a story I tell most people,” I said.
Adam seemed offended that I considered him “most people.” “Why not?”
“If there was a very special episode of I Love Lucy, where Lucy was turned into a vampire, she’d probably use my story. Let’s just say I didn’t have any choice. It was either death or this. I’m fortunate that my sire happened to be there.”
“This sire, is that the guy you’re seeing?” he asked.
I nodded. It was so weird to discuss this with him, the touch of jealousy tainting his otherwise clear tenor.
“Is it serious?” he asked.
I stared down at my coffee cup, ashamed that I was unable to answer. I didn’t know where I stood with Gabriel right now. Was it unfair that I didn’t want to give Adam the impression that I was totally unavailable? Was I just using his unabashed interest as a convenient excuse to look for a way out of an uncomfortable, uncertain situation with my sire? Why did I feel so guilty for thinking that way when Gabriel’s actions were so suspicious?
Why couldn’t I be a Marianne instead of an Elinor? Just live in the moment and take what I wanted from life? Why did I have to think everything through? Elinor is a pushover. She lets everyone else act any way they please, leaving her to clean up their messes without complaint. Marianne may be misguided and silly, but at least she has some fun every once in a while.
Adam took advantage of my silence. “If you can’t answer, that probably means something.”
I nodded, still unable to add anything to the exchange.
“Well, if something changes or you decide that you’re … I just want you to know that if you ever need someone to talk to, I’d like that person to be me. Damn it, that made no sense. I’m sorry, you just make me a little nervous,” he admitted. His blush brought a flood of deep, healthy pink to his cheeks.
“I make you nervous?” I was strangely pleased by that. After all, he’d made me stutter and drool for most of my adolescence. Turnabout was fair play.
The blush that had subsided only a few seconds before rushed back into his cheeks. “Well, yeah. I like spending time with you. I’m grateful that I’m getting to know you again. I don’t want to screw this up.”
I was able to tamp down my instinct to squeal. I had some cool, flirty speech prepared about Adam playing his cards right, but he suddenly stood up, took my face in his hands, and brushed a quick kiss across my cheek, leaving a tingling path where his lips had touched my skin. He was so warm, vital, full of life. He smelled like sundried cotton and peppermint, though I imagined that last part was probably just doggie shampoo. The pattern of his hands seemed burned into my cheeks, branding me. How could I have forgotten how warm human men were? It was like sliding into a bone-softening hot bath at the end of a long, blustery day, comforting and sweet. He pulled away from me and smiled. I sat stunned, watching him cross to the kitchen door.
“Just think about what I said, Jane,” he said as he stepped outside. “Give me a call sometime, even if it’s just to talk. I want to see you again.”
“I will,” I promised before I had a chance to filter my response. I seemed to be channeling the teenage Jane, who had no impulse control or loyalty to Gabriel.
Adam took care to close the door quietly, but somehow that tiny snick woke Nevie up and had her squalling.
