“Yeah, just give me a few minutes.”
 
 He strides out of the room, unaffected. Mature and cool. A moody, beautiful symphony of a man.
 
 CHAPTER 23
 
 Daniel
 
 Surrendering to the attraction I feel toward Alexander is surprisingly easy. After fighting it for weeks and swimming upstream, I’m allowing the current to pull me along. For better or worse.
 
 What do I want from him?
 
 Our conversations are deeply satisfying and feel like a plush cocoon. A warm, feathery and insulated nest that we create every single time we’re together. A shelter where our words and emotions weave like a sturdy fabric.
 
 It feels as if we’re constantly creating this new, untainted world that I love.
 
 Physically touching him is like striking a match. As if I’ve lit a literal fire, he jumps and freaks out from the spark. His eyes burn in a golden blaze of light.
 
 Maybe… I want him to be more comfortable with himself. And perhaps with me as a byproduct?
 
 Ever since he licked me and then gorgeously playedClaire de Lunein a private concerto, I have to catch my mind from wandering and conjuring filthy thoughts about him—usually when I’m showering or lying in my bed at night. I haven’t had sexin ages and Imissit. I feel like a prepubescent vampire because I think about sex practically every day now.
 
 I should not be thinking about having sex with an Eden purebred prince.
 
 But here we are.
 
 Earlier, he told me that I was, “Smarter, more mature and more talented,” than him. Well-meaning sentiments, without question. Although, my being “mature” is largely the result of the trauma I’ve endured with Josefina. Yes, I learned a lot from that abusive relationship and I suppose maturity is an inevitable byproduct.
 
 His speech also subtly informed me that I’ve been placed on some kind of pedestal. Plus, there’s Raphael’s anecdote about Alexander admiring me when he was younger.
 
 I want him to understand that I’m not evil or mean. Nor am I some glorified piano prodigy from his adolescent mind that’s beyond his reach. Somehow, and over the course of a month, Alexander has skipped over everything in the middle and landed on admiration instead of aversion.
 
 I’m normal. Touchable and flawed.
 
 That’s all.
 
 We’re sitting on the couch after having lunch and are fifteen minutes into an episode ofBuffy. She and Cordelia are competing for homecoming queen and I find this entire storyline rather banal. Alexander is sitting far enough away from me that an entire third vampire could be comfortable between us. I have one knee bent with my foot on the cushions and one leg hanging down as I look over at him.
 
 I’m bored. And horny.
 
 This is cheeky as hell but I do it anyway. “Can I stretch you?”
 
 I stifle a grin as the words almost visibly hit Alexander upside his temple. He blinks, processing with his arms comfortably folded, then turns his head in slow-motion. His expression is perplexed, like he’s clearly misheard me. I couldn’t have just said what he thinks I said.
 
 “Excuse me?”
 
 “Tomorrow morning,” I say, unable to hide my smile. “Let’s do yoga together. You said you were interested in trying. We can do it before we head to Kat and Roland’s?”
 
 His shoulders bounce in a restrained laugh as he focuses back on the projector screen. “Sure… that was a really weird way to ask me that question.”
 
 “Was it?” I say, feigning innocence and shifting my body in his direction so that my shoulder rests into the couch back. “Why do you think?”
 
 “Oh, I don’t know, Danny. No reason.”
 
 “Did you think I was talking about having sex?”
 
 Closing his eyes, he brings his fingertips to the bridge of his nose, massaging. “No, I did not… I wouldn’t think that. We should end this conversation immediately.”
 
 “Your alighted eyes don’t offend me,” I say, honestly. “They’re beautiful when they spark—and when they don’t. Like molten gold. Has anyone ever told you that?”