Page 22 of Blood & Betrayals

“Maybe I’ll see you at that party on Friday night.” Why did I say that? I did not want to see more of this guy. It definitely had nothing to do with the sinking feeling I experienced when he turned his back on me.

Connor pauses and looks at me over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. “Are you going to the game before?”

“You know my name yet, Morningstar?”

He smirks. “Not yet, but I’m enjoying the mystery.”

A smile plays on my lips. And I’m enjoying being chased.

He winks again. “See you soon.”

I grab our order, and Alice and I leave, my stomach still fluttering.

9

Summer

“Why won’t you tell him your name again?” Her voice lilted in a gently teasing way. She knows the answer but seems to love making me say these things out loud. How do I know these things about her? And her about me? Is this whatfriendshipis like?

My lips twitch slightly. My body warms at the thought of him, and I bite my lower lip. “It’s more fun watching him work to earn it.”

Alice snickers. “You want him so bad.”

“I do not,” I growl, but it’s without venom.

Alice moves closer to me, sniffing loudly. “You so do.”

I swat her away, chuckling. “Stop.”

Alice skips gleefully beside me. “If it helps, he wants you, too. Like so bad.”

I roll my eyes, trying to ignore how my core tingles a little. A girl likes to hear that she’s wanted. Sometimes it’s the little things.

As we walk back through the school’s boundary, our uniforms return. Alice pouts, brushing her fingers over her slacks. I can tell she’s already missing the jeans, and I do not doubt that the second we’re home, she will embark on some serious detective work to find out where to buy an identical pair.

We walk into our dorm, and it hits me how much this space already feels more like home than anywhere else I’ve ever lived. It’s safe, warm, and comfortable. I feel like I could be truly accepted in this space and with this vampire I have known for such a tiny portion of my life. She’s already more like family than anyone in my past.

I sit on the couch, and Alice walks to the fridge, grumbling about how the new one still hasn’t arrived. She grabs a bag of blood and rips the lid off, adding a sprinkling of some herbs she’d ordered from the pizzeria and a splash of what looks like hot sauce. She gives the bag a good shake and then takes a healthy drink before nodding in acceptance and joining me on the couch.

I open the pizza box, and the smell immediately permeates the apartment. I grab a slice and take a big bite.

“Can I ask you something?” Alice asks after taking another large gulp of her blood concoction.

Instinctively, I tense. Usually, when someone asks that, it means the question will not be easy to ask or answer. I take a napkin and wipe the grease from my mouth before nodding.

Alice watches me, tilting her head slightly. “I’ve noticed you don’t like to talk about your past.” I drop my gaze, picking at the cheese on my pizza, but she continues, “It’s because it’s bad, right?”

I remind myself that I am safe, but I feel myself start to shut down. I fight against the need to go into protection mode and build those adamantium barriers I’ve perfected after decades of constructing them.

Show me what you can do, Summer.

I think I trust Alice. And while I am grateful that she is offering me this space, opening up about my past causes more pain than it’s worth. The words flow out of me almost instinctively, and I barely register them as they pass my lips. “I don’t talk about it. And I won’t.”

The words are sharp, impaling, harsh, and unfair. I want to scream and burst free from my skin. Suddenly, the bite of pizza I’ve just swallowed sits as heavy as a rock in my stomach. I can’t even look at her, unable to acknowledge the hurt I’ve caused.

“I’m not going to push.” Her voice is soft, gentle, and understanding. I lift my eyes to look at her, and I’m surprised to see no hurt there, no anger or frustration. There is only care. “It’s your business, but just know you can talk to me if you want.” She pauses. “And don’t think I’m a dick for only talking about myself.”

The tension in my shoulders eases, and my lips quirk in a half smile. Before this conversation, similar ones have always ended in hostility and harsh words about lack of trust. I lean in against Alice, trying to show her that I appreciate her in the only way I can. The words won’t come, and at this moment, it is the only way I have of telling her she had done the kindest thing for me.

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