At night, Reed looks like a gorgeous, otherworldly creature.
In the daylight though, he looks untouchable. His vampire skin appears indestructible.
Like even the sun can’t touch him or his moon-kissed skin.
Like even the ball of fire up in the sky pales in comparison to the glow in his animal eyes.
And he’s wearing my most favorite thing in the world: his white hoodie.
All soft and cozy and sofamiliarthat I feel something lodge in my throat.
Lodge and hurt.
Even so, I manage to sound stern as I say, “She’s not going anywhere. But you’re leaving. Because I don’t wanna talk to you.”
Obviously, he settles himself at our table even more.
I should’ve known.
This is what he used to do back at Bardstown High, when I’d tell him to go away. Either from the auditorium or the dusty closets that he was so fond of locking me in.
Right now, he slides down the booth seat — pretty pink leather —and widens his thighs. His boots inch forward on the floor and almost touch my black Mary Janes.
Resting his hands on the white table, he says, “That works out then. Because I don’t want you to talk. I just want you to listen.”
I sigh sharply. “What are you even doing here? I thought this store was too pink for you.”
That’s another one of the things he said to me that night. And shadows move across his features, making me think that he remembers.
He remembers all the things he said to me that night.
All the awful, terrible,truethings.
“It is.” He threads his fingers together. “But as I said, I’d like to talk to you. And I’d rather not talk when we have company —”
“She’s not going anywhere,” I tell him, cutting him off. “Whatever you wanna say to me, you can do it in front of her.”
I don’t know why I’m so adamant about that.
I don’t know why I need Wyn here but I do. Idoneed her to be here.
I need one thing to go my way.One thing.
Because ever since I saw him at the bar last night, I’ve been praying and wishing and hoping.
I’ve been praying that I don’t see him again. That Ineversee him.
That last night turns out to be a coincidence.
Because I’m still reeling.
I’m still reeling from the fact that I saw him after two years.
That I heard his voice and smelled his scent.
I’m still reeling from the fact that even now he stares at me like he did back at Bardstown High. That even though I had decided that I wouldn’t dance, I did — just to show him that his presence didn’t affect me — and he tracked my every move like I belonged to him.
So I want my friend with me, period.
