The heart of Mark’s inner loser, the one who wallowed in self-pity and played at being the angry victim, beat erratically. “What are you saying, Mel?”
She looked up at him, her jaw set. “That I lied when I said I didn’t remember our love. That I lied when I said I didn’t want to feed from you because I was afraid I’d hurt you. I remember it all. I remember us. I’ve wanted you”—she closed her eyes—“so badly.”
The loser’s heart took off like a jackrabbit who knew the fox was closing in. “Then why? Why not tell me that three fucking months ago? You enjoyed watching me beg?”
“I haven’t enjoyed anything since I’ve been turned. Especially seeing you hurt.” She’d started regaining a little of the fire he loved so much. “But I kept hearing you say . . .” She shook her head. “Never mind.”
Oh no, she wasn’t clamming up now and leaving him with the blame. “You kept hearing me say what, Melissa?”
She smiled. “Remember when we went on our last date night, before things got so bad?”
He remembered, all right. The theater had still been there, before it burned. Old Clyde’s barbecue place—he was the only original Penton resident who stayed when the vamps moved in—hadn’t been bombed. None of them knew what kind of shit was coming their way. It was nine months ago. A lifetime ago.
“We ate at Clyde’s, then walked down the street to the theater and watched that Twilight movie,” he said, and laughed. “We made jokes about the sparkling vampires and how pissed off Mirren would be if he sparkled.”
Then they’d gone home and made love. It had been the last perfect night he could remember.
“That was when Krys and Aidan were fighting their feelings for each other, when Krys was so scared and Aidan was in total denial,” Melissa said, her voice so soft he had to strain to hear. “You said you’d never want to be mated to a vampire, that it wasn’t worth the things you’d have to give up.”
Mark’s inner loser rolled over and gasped for air. He seemed to realize he was dying, and in his place sprang up a man Mark had thought dead—the hopeful man. The one who knew who he was and where he belonged.
“Mel, I was just talking out of my ass. I didn’t mean . . .” Shit. “You were avoiding me because you thought once I came to my senses I wouldn’t want you?”
Her smile was genuine. It was heartbreaking. It was the most beautiful thing he’d seen in months. “When you put it like that it seems pretty stupid, huh?”
He tried to get up and cross the fourteen inches to get to her, just two small steps. His back seized up on him halfway and he stumbled.
She caught him, eased her arms around him, and before he knew it they were hugging, her body achingly familiar against his. He’d missed her smell, her skin, the feel of her breasts pressing against his chest. None of that had changed.
Goddamned back. “I want to see if you know how to kiss with fangs, but I’ve gotta sit down.”
She helped ease him onto the bed, and this time when she plumped up the pillows and tugged his sheets and quilt back into place, he didn’t try to stop her. And when she climbed on the bed and lowered her mouth to his, he didn’t try to stop that, either. Her mouth molded to his, and when she scraped a fang across his lip and drew blood, he laughed at her horrified expression.
“If you were too good at kissing with those things, I’d worry about who you’ve been practicing on.” He grinned at her. “You’re terrible at it.”
She laughed, and instead of finding the sight of the delicate fangs unsettling, Mark found them sexy as sin.
Still, this felt like a sudden change. “Mel, we need to take this slow.” What he didn’t add was that he didn’t trust her not to change her mind; she’d been jerking him around for three months, after all, and he couldn’t go through it again. “Cage is back. What does that mean?”
She sat up and settled next to him, hugging her legs to her chest. “It was pretty funny—last night was the first time I’ve really had a chance to talk to him since he got back. I went in ready to let him down gently and tell him there was no future for us, only to find out he’d wanted to tell me the same thing.”
Mark looked for any sign she was glossing things over or holding something back, but she met his probing look without flinching. She’d never been a good liar, and he doubted that had changed just because she was a vampire. Although she’d certainly lied well enough to push him away all these months, and he’d obviously been willing to believe her.