He inhaled. “Did you like kissing him?”

Too much. She almost lied, but then … “Probably no more than you enjoyed kissing Jessie.” And she knew he’d enjoyed it because he’d looked so guilty the day she’d called him on it.

He stared out the window again. “You could have lied on that one.”

“I’m becoming a big advocate of the truth, lately.” Especially after learning how many people had lied to her. Her ex-boyfriend. Her parents—they’d never told her about her uncle and aunt. Chase—what was his connection to Chan?

And yet, as angry as those lies made her, she continued to lie, didn’t she? She wasn’t telling her parents she was vampire—for good reasons, but it was still a lie. And she hadn’t told Burnett about her uncle and aunt, and she didn’t think she would. But right now, at least with Steve, she wanted to be honest.

“I’m sorry I kissed him. There was danger involved and everything was intense, but it was … It wasn’t you. And afterwards,” Della continued, “I wished it was you.” Besides, Chase was gone now.

“That’s exactly how I feel,” he said. They sat in the front seat of the car, just staring at each other. “So what does this mean?” he asked.

“I know what I want it to mean. I want there to be an us, but I’m still scared.”

“Then we just take it slow.”

She looked at him and her heart felt half filled with promise and half filled with fear. “Wasn’t that what we were doing and it didn’t work out?”

“Then we don’t take it that slow. We let it move faster,” he said it with caution and with hope.

She bit down on her lip. “I didn’t even know your birthday. I don’t know how good I’ll be at … being an us.” She waved a hand between them. “You probably deserve better.”

“It doesn’t get better than you.” The gold and green flecks in his eyes flickered as he smiled. He leaned in and, fitting his hand behind her head, pulled her closer. “You’re beautiful, and funny. And smart.” His words came against her mouth. His lips finally brushed hers. “Did I say beautiful? I love you wearing my shirt.” Their mouths met. His palm slipped to her neck, and emotion radiated from his touch. He shifted closer to the center console, trying to get close to her.

She did the same.

Their tongues met and the kiss went from romantic to something more. Her heart raced, her skin felt supersensitive. All she could think about was getting closer.

She wanted to rip out the console between them; instead, she climbed over the dang thing. But when her ass hit the steering wheel the horn blew.

They both laughed, and dipped down in case anyone looked. Steve reached below and reclined his seat several inches, making room for her in his lap. Not really fitting, she tried to readjust. He scooted up, and she slipped legs around his waist. The position was tight, but ultra sexy. Della’s heart raced and she could feel Steve’s follow suit.

She pulled back just an inch, looking at his wet mouth. “You do know it’s the middle of the day and someone could be watching.”

“So?” He pulled her back against him. His hands slipped under her shirt. His palms fit around her waist, so warm, so right. Slowly, his touch traveled up from her waist to her edge of her breasts. She wanted his hands there. She wanted his hands everywhere.

Steve ended the kiss way before she wanted him to. His breath came hard and fast, and his eyes glittered with the same thing she felt, desire. Need. Longing.

His eyes told one story, but his facial expression told another.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

Chapter Thirty-five

“You’re hot, Della,” Steve said.

“So are you,” she answered.

“No!” He pulled his hand out of her shirt and passed it over his face. “Not hot.” He shook his head. “You are sexier than hell, but what I mean is that you still have a fever. What’s going on?”

“Oh. I … I’m sure it’s not a big deal.” She told him what she’d been telling herself for the last few weeks. “I don’t think I have a fever, I’m just not as cold.” And not wanting to think about being sick, she knew what would distract her. She tried to kiss him again.

He put his hand between her mouth and his. “It could be a big deal. And if you aren’t as cold, then it means you have a fever. Now get back in your seat.”

“Why?”

“I’m driving you back to the office so Dr. Whitman can check you out.”

“No.” Della rested her forehead against his.

“Why the hell not?” He leaned his head back and studied her face.

“Because … I’m fine. And I don’t want to worry Burnett and Holiday right now. If I’m not back to normal in a few days I’ll come in. Okay? Or better yet, I’ll have Kylie do some of her healing-hands stuff on me.”

His expression filled with disappointment. “Healers can’t cure everything.” He studied her. “What are your symptoms?”

I don’t have a rash. Wasn’t that what was important? “Steve, I’m fine. And for your information, Kylie cured her friend’s cancer. I’m sure she can take care of a little virus.” She felt better saying that, too. But if she told Steve she suspected she had the same thing as Chan, he’d freak. A freaking Steve she couldn’t handle.

“What are your symptoms?” he repeated adamantly. “Are you hurting anywhere?”

“No … well, I had a headache for a while, but it’s gone now.” She wasn’t going to lie, just downplay it a bit.

“And?” he asked.

She hadn’t said “and,” but Steve had always been able to read her. “This stays between us,” she said. “Doctor-patient privilege, right?”

He glared at her. “You’re sitting on my lap. I had my hand up your shirt.”

“It’s your shirt,” she corrected, and smiled.

“Whatever, my point is that I’m talking to you as your boyfriend.”

She smiled. “I like the sound of that.”

His stern expression softened. “Me, too.” But then he frowned again. “Now tell me your symptoms.”

She could maybe tell him some of it. “Do I have your promise you won’t say anything?” She touched his mouth. It was as soft to her fingers as it had been on her lips.

“Fine. I promise,” he cratered.

“My hearing, vampire hearing, and scent, it goes in and out. It’s crazy. They come and go.”

His expression hardened, and his brown eyes, which had looked all sexy seconds ago, now looked fretful.

“You’re beginning to look more like a doctor,” she accused.

He groaned. “Let me take you now to see Dr. Whitman, Della. Please. Have him check you out, do some blood work. I’ll feel so much better.”

“No. Like I said, in a few days when Holiday is home and everything is okay with the baby, I’ll go, but not now.”

“But…”

“Stop making this into something more than it is.” She was fine, she told herself. Vampires seldom got sick. And yet some that do get sick, die.

The voice echoed inside her head, and damn if it didn’t sound a lot like Chan.

But right then Della heard other voices. Voices and laughter. These came from outside the car. Steve lifted his head and looked out the window.

Through a few strands of hair, she stared at Steve, hoping, praying, she was wrong. He finally glanced back at her.

She bit down on her lip before asking. “Please tell me someone hasn’t seen us making out like a couple of horny teenagers in the front seat of a car.”

He brushed her hair from her face. “Does it matter anymore?”

“How many?” she asked.

“How many what?”

“How many am I going to have to kill?”

A smile lit up his eyes, and he glanced back to the right and then to the left. “Six. No seven. Wait. Eight. That’s a lot of people to kill.” His grin widened.

She felt her face grow hot, wondering how long everyone had been watching. “I guess I should get off your lap.”

He arched his eyebrows in a teasing manner. “I don’t know. I kind of like it.”

She started to pull one leg from behind him. “If my ass hits the horn again, I’m going to die of embarrassment right here and now.”

His smiled faded and she knew exactly where his thoughts had gone. “No one’s dying. “

She had started to focus on getting her leg free when he touched her face and tilted her chin up to meet his face again. “Two days, Della. If you don’t come in to see Dr. Whitman, I’m bringing him to you.”

“I’m sorry, but it was funny.” Miranda laughed and pulled out three Diet Cokes from the fridge. “And we didn’t know it was you. All we saw were two people making out in the driver’s seat.” She sat the drinks on the table. “And we didn’t recognize the car.”

“It’s not funny!” Della growled.

Miranda, Kylie, Perry, and five other students had all been standing out by the entrance watching her and Steve. Della had no idea how she could have not seen them when Steve pulled up, but then again, all her attention had been on the driver of the car.

All her attention had been on Steve’s touch; on how it felt to be kissed by him. On how it felt to be understood by him. Was that what made him so special? He accepted her the way she was. He liked her the way she was.

“Hey … all you did was kiss.” Kylie tried to assure her, but even the chameleon was smiling on the inside, Della could see it in her eyes.

“I don’t know,” Miranda said. “His hand was in her shirt and we couldn’t tell where her hands were.”

Della shot the witch a cold glare. “Drop it before I drop you!”

“Right, let’s change the subject,” Kylie said. “We’re happy. Holiday and Hannah are going to be fine. Thanks to you, by the way. You and Steve have made up.”

“Thanks to me,” Miranda said. “I told you to kiss Chase. And that’s what fixed this.”

“Kissing Chase was a mistake.” Della’s mind went to him knowing Chan again, and she needed to call Kevin to see what else he knew about the panty perv, but she didn’t want to think about him right now. Kylie was right. Things were too good to worry. And if that meant ignoring that she now had a little headache, so be it.

“All in all,” Kylie said, and popped the top on her soda, “it’s been a hell of a good day.”

And I saved Billy, Della thought, and opened her own drink.

When Della looked up, Miranda stared, eyes tight, frown tighter. “What?”

The witch set her soda down. “You’re happy, but…”

“But what?” Della asked.

“Your aura is still dark. Even darker than before.”

“Well, then your aura detector is broke,” Della said.

Miranda shook her head. “Tomorrow, you’re going bird watching. I don’t care if I have to drag the birds to you.”

By eight that night, Della sat alone at the kitchen table—feeling lonely. And feeling like shit. Her headache had increased.. The throb came not only at her temples, but at the base of her neck. Maybe she should have let Steve drive her back to Dr. Whitman’s office after all. Or perhaps she should have asked Kylie to do her magic before leaving.

Yup, Della’s two best friends had abandoned her over an hour ago to be with their boyfriends. She couldn’t be pissed. If Steve was here, she’d be with him.

Staring down at her phone, she willed it to ring. She’d called Kevin back twice, hoping they could finish their conversation about Chase, but his phone went to voicemail and he hadn’t returned her calls. The question weighing on her mind grew heavier. Why hadn’t Chase told her he knew Chan? What could that mean?

The cabin walls seemed to moan. Was it her imagination, or had the room’s temperature dropped a few degrees? She folded her arms around herself and looked around. Was Chan here? She shouldn’t be afraid of him if he was. But the tickle of unease in the pit of her stomach didn’t go away. What did her cousin want with her? Was it about Chase?

She recalled Chase telling her he’d been looking for someone. Had he been lying?

All at once, the skin at the base of her neck prickled. She turned her head, half expecting to see someone standing there, staring at her.

The room was empty. Or at least empty of anyone she could see.

“Is it you, Chan?” she whispered.

Only silence answered her. Picking up her phone, she considered calling Steve, but she’d called earlier and he said he had patients and he’d call her as soon as he had a few minutes. Thoughts of Jessie being with him did a lap around her already antsy mood. Trusting Steve was one thing, trusting Jessie was another. Her head throbbed harder.

When another chill ran down her spine, she stood up and decided to go take a warm shower. She moved to the bathroom, started the water, and stripped off her clothes. The sound of the shower seemed to echo, and for some reason she remembered the falls. She looked at the shower curtain. Steam billowed out. She set a towel on the counter. Rubbing her temple, she glanced up in the mirror and saw her na**d reflection. Then she saw him.

“Shit! Get out of here, Chan!” Being scared of her dead cousin she maybe could have handled; being scared and na**d was too much. She grabbed the towel and swung around to face him. She expected him to be gone, but he wasn’t. He stood there in puff of steam.