Page 47 of Don't Bite the Boy Next Door
“Ryan, you didn’t scare me, you just made me angry. As a vampire, I guess nobody has told you this, but your emotions, especially rage, are heightened. Controlling how you feel is really important, but I know you can do it.”
“No,” he groans, “this is why, Tess, this is why…this is the kind of man I am.”
I wait, but he doesn’t elaborate.
“Ryan,” I sigh, “I watched you for so long, I know what kind of man you are. I know you’ll learn to control your impulses, just as I do. Your personality doesn’t change just because you become a vampire. I’ve never seen you angry before tonight, not once, and you’ve certainly had cause. I mean, one night I saw you hit your thumb, hard, while nailing the front door frame. Do you remember?”
He nods, grimacing.
“I watched you put your hand between your knees and your head down and wait for the pain to pass. Do you know what Serena would have done in that situation? She would have thrown that hammer so hard it would have gone through every wall in the house and out the other side.” I laugh as I say this, knowing how true it is, and he joins in with me.
As our laughter dies down, we sit quietly for some time, listening to the water, before he breaks the silence.
“Thank you, Tess.”
“Any time.,”
It’s getting so very cold now, the damp having soaked through my clothes. I know it’s silly to stay out here any longer, and in truth, I’d like to get to go back to his home and get to know his mother.
“Will you come home now? He asks, echoing my thoughts.
I smile shyly and look up at him, his earnest eyes meeting mine, drawing me in, making me want to agree to anything he requests. As I watch, his pupils dilate slightly and, almost as though my body moves of its own accord, I lean in and press my lips to his, gently, before pulling away, and looking at him once more.
“Tess,” he murmurs.
I begin to worry that I’ve done something unwelcome, something stupid, but slowly, as though I am a precious bit of glass, he strokes my cheek. I close my eyes as his hand slides behind my neck, drawing me back to him, and his lips claim mine in a slow, delicious kiss. My heart is doing cartwheels, and every nerve ending feels on fire as his other hand circles my waist, pulling me closer. Kissing him is every bit as wonderful as I had imagined. His lips are soft, but sure, and his kiss is slow and deep. I feel my stomach muscles tighten as I run my hands up his strong arms and around to the back of his head, my fingers lacing in his hair, pulling him even closer.
But all too soon, he breaks away, shaking his head, his breathing heavy, as is mine.
“Does this mean you’ve forgiven me for the pink hall runner?” I breathe, noting his body language change, his shoulders begin to pull up into their habitual posture, stiff with tension.
He chuckles, shaking his head, and relaxes ever so slightly.
“No, that runner is unpardonable. But you’ve forgiven me for being an ass?”
“It will take a few more kisses, I think, for that. But you’ve made a start.”
He studies my face for a minute, his expression serious, before looking away.
I can’t read what I see in his eyes when he looks back, but his voice is all-business, the warmth of the past few minutes now gone, as though it had seeped into the snow the minute our kiss broke.
“We should get back. Mother wants to know where she is to sleep and if she can cook us dinner. I’m not sure how to navigate this, since, you know, I don’t eat real food anymore.”
“I’ll sort that out,” I promise, “and she will have my room, of course,” I rise, holding my hand out to him.
He takes it and flicks to his feet but drops it immediately as he stands by my side.
I try not to feel offended or sad, but I can’t help it. I’d do anything to have him look at me the way he had before the kiss.
‘Obviously, he thinks the kiss was a mistake.’
“No, she can have mine, I’ll sleep on the couch,” he says, shrugging, unaware of my inner turmoil.
“She will do no such thing. Your room looks like a cross between a squirrel’s nest and the bat cave,” I harumph, determined to act equally as sanguine as he is, ignoring the elephant in the woods - our first kiss.
“Since when have you seen inside my room?” he raises an eyebrow.
“I haven’t,” I laugh, as side by side, close enough to hold hands, but not, we walk back through the trees. “But after seeing your study, I took a guess. Tell me I’m wrong.”
