Last night she'd blamed most of the tossing and turning on the thought of bedbugs. Funny how the idea of bedbugs kept shifting to Steve's kiss. Then Steve's kiss led her to think about her mixed-up, crazy feelings about Lee.

Was she over him? If so, why did it still hurt? But if she still loved him, why wasn't she jealous of Mei? Then Della's thoughts went to her mom and dad and sister playing board games without her. For some reason thinking about Lee and her parents helped block out the thoughts of the kiss.

Still in bed and staring at the stained ceiling, Della heard water running, which meant Steve was taking a shower. Before she'd gone to bed she'd given the shower a good spray of Lysol, and took a quick stand beneath the spewing water herself.

When she'd left the shower, Steve had been sitting on the sofa, staring at the bathroom door. Staring as if he hoped she'd be wearing something sexy.

Poor guy had been disappointed. Or she had thought he'd been for about two seconds, until his gaze had lowered and then traveled up again as a slow sexy grin appeared in his eyes.

"You were right," he'd said. "And you were wrong."

She liked the part about being right, but...? "Wrong about what?"

That seductive smile shifted to his lips as his gaze lowered again, and stopped on her bare feet. "Right that I have a foot fetish. Wrong about me never seeing your naked feet."

She used those naked feet to run off to the bedroom. The second after she slammed the door, he'd called out that they needed to talk about the mission. She called back that they could do it in the morning. Then she'd dropped into bed.

Even five hours later, remembering the way he'd looked at her-at her feet for God's sake-made her feel all fluttery inside. Now, as the sound of water from the shower filled her head, so did images. Her mind went to him standing under a steamy spray of water. And she had the oddest desire to see his naked feet. And other things.

She groaned and pressed her palms into her eyes. Why couldn't he be ugly?

Taking a deep breath of resolve, she told herself to get over it. Besides, today was a new day. Slipping out of bed, she brushed her hair, and adjusted her bra. Feeling a tiny bit more in control, she went into the living room to wait her turn in the bathroom. She needed to brush her teeth, and they had to go over the plans for their mission. Then they needed to go do what they had to do. Catch themselves some bad vampires.

She didn't have time to think about how hot Steve was, or how his kiss had melted her insides like butter on a steaming ear of corn. It was time to think about kicking rogue vampire butt, not Steve's cute butt.

Drumming her fingers on the top of her knees, she saw the file they had to go over with their instructions sitting on the sofa. She really didn't need to review it. She'd read it a dozen times and memorized it. Because vamps could read a lie in a person's heartbeat, they'd come up with a form of the truth that hopefully wouldn't read as a lie. She, Della Tsang, had been turned vampire and was sent to a special boarding school. She wasn't big on the school's rules, so she and her friend Steve the shape-shifter had run off. But due to the known difficulties of obtaining blood for her, they had decided to join a gang.

The bathroom door squeaked open, and Steve walked out. He was ... he was half naked, and bam, she was back to thinking about his cute butt. And ... her gaze lowered. He had socks on.

For some odd reason, she recalled that someone had told her that Steve was already eighteen. He looked eighteen, probably a year older than Della. Muscles rippled over his chest and arms. She knew he worked out, but most of what he had appeared natural.

Her breath caught in her throat for a second. She'd seen him swimming and without a shirt, but something about seeing all that bare skin and him being freshly showered brought back the flutters. Brought back the memory of his kiss and of how his warm hands had felt in the curve of her waist.

He met her gaze and smiled as if somehow reading her mind. Moving to the chair, he slipped on a dark green T-shirt. Thank goodness.

"You ready to go over everything?" he asked.

"Need to brush my teeth." Need to find my self-control and I'm pretty sure it's in the toilet. She popped up and ran to the bathroom. When she came back three minutes later, she'd taken her frustration out on her teeth. There wasn't a speck of plaque on her pearly whites. And while she didn't find her self-control in the potty, she'd given herself a good talking-to about not acting like some hormone-crazed teen.

Sure she was a teen, and probably hormone crazed, but she didn't need to act like it.

Steve had the open file in his lap when she moved to the living room. She sat down on the opposite side of the sofa and he started going over the info.

She didn't tell him she already knew it because he might need to hear it. Five minutes later, he closed the file. "Okay, the thing to remember is if they insist I leave, I'll shift and hang around. I won't leave you."

Della cut her eyes to him. "Heartwarming, but if they insist you leave, I'll be fine. I can take care of myself. Besides, they know you're a shifter, Steve. Don't do anything that will ruin this."

"I won't do anything to ruin it. But I'm not leaving you." His tone came out determined, protective. "I'll be careful. They won't realize it's me."

"Yes they will. What about them knowing you're a shifter don't you get?"

He stared at her a long second before speaking. "So they're smarter than you, huh?"