bed.
“Come to think about it, I’ll take the sofa,” she said. “And I don’t want to hear
any shit. There ain’t no one going to get past me.”
They had flown here. Not on a jet. Him as a Peregrine falcon—which meant he was fast—and
her as a, well, a vampire—which meant she was faster. Vamps and shape-shifters being
the only two species who could really fly. Well, an occasional witch, but Miranda,
her Wiccan roommate, swore they really didn’t travel around on brooms.
However, Steve and Della’s mode of transportation also meant they really hadn’t spoken
since they’d left Shadow Falls, with the exception of when they’d first walked into
the cabin and he’d insisted she take the bed. And why? Because if someone came through
the door he would stop them.
That downright pissed her off. She almost called him on being a complete chauvinistic
pig, but then realized that if she wanted to sneak out later, she wouldn’t want him
traipsing into the living room before morning and finding her gone.
Since he came across as the type with manners, and morals and stuff, who wouldn’t
come into a girl’s bedroom—at least not without an invitation—she’d kept her mouth
shut.
Face it, she’d take the odds of him finding her gone to the odds of those mattress
germs finding her body, hands down.
Steve cut his soft brown eyes to her and a knowing smile spread his lips. He ran a
hand through his brown hair, which he wore a tad longer than most guys. The strands
fell right back into place, looking instantly styled. She doubted he went to some
professional salon to get that look, but it almost appeared like he did.
His smile widened and he tucked one hand into his jeans pocket. The stance made the
muscles in that arm bulge. “So what you’re saying is that the bed is worse than the
sofa?”
“I didn’t say that.” She tried not to laugh, but something close to it slipped out
of her mouth. She tried not to stare at his crooked smile and what it did to his lips
and eyes. Or how his muscled arms looked like a safe place to fall. She’d give anything,
even half a bra size to make him … ugly. And unlike her two roommates at Shadow Falls,
she didn’t have much bra size to offer.
She continued to stare at him. She could have dealt with an ugly guy much better than
one who looked like he’d just walked off of some men’s soap advertisement. And hell,
she thought, breathing in his aroma, you’d think after spending the last two hours
as a bird, he wouldn’t smell like he used some spicy-smelling men’s soap, but he did.
He smelled … awesome, and that ticked her off, too.
If she were a witch like her bigger-boobed roommate, Miranda, she’d change him into
a repulsive fowl/foul-smelling guy. And she’d also make him less … nice. She didn’t
like nice.
The only nice person Della had grown fond of was Kylie. And she was so nice, even
Della couldn’t hate her. Well, right now, Della did hate her. Hated her for leaving.
And if she didn’t get her butt back to Shadow Falls soon, Della was going to drag
her friend back kicking and screaming. Sure, Kylie had gone to meet her newly discovered
grandfather and learn more about her species, but plain and simple, she belonged at
Shadow Falls. Someone had to keep Della and Miranda from killing each other. And no
one was better at that than Kylie.
“We could both sleep on the sofa,” Steve said, and damn if he didn’t sound serious.
“Not even in your dreams, bird boy!” she snapped.
“Ouch,” he said and chuckled. “I only meant your head at one end and mine at the other.
Only our feet would be touching.”
“So you’ve got a foot fetish, do you?” she asked before she could stop herself.
Humor brightened his eyes. With him positioned right in front of the bare window,
and the last rays of the setting sun beaming in, she got a good look at those eyes.
Were those flecks
“Come to think about it, I’ll take the sofa,” she said. “And I don’t want to hear
any shit. There ain’t no one going to get past me.”
They had flown here. Not on a jet. Him as a Peregrine falcon—which meant he was fast—and
her as a, well, a vampire—which meant she was faster. Vamps and shape-shifters being
the only two species who could really fly. Well, an occasional witch, but Miranda,
her Wiccan roommate, swore they really didn’t travel around on brooms.
However, Steve and Della’s mode of transportation also meant they really hadn’t spoken
since they’d left Shadow Falls, with the exception of when they’d first walked into
the cabin and he’d insisted she take the bed. And why? Because if someone came through
the door he would stop them.
That downright pissed her off. She almost called him on being a complete chauvinistic
pig, but then realized that if she wanted to sneak out later, she wouldn’t want him
traipsing into the living room before morning and finding her gone.
Since he came across as the type with manners, and morals and stuff, who wouldn’t
come into a girl’s bedroom—at least not without an invitation—she’d kept her mouth
shut.
Face it, she’d take the odds of him finding her gone to the odds of those mattress
germs finding her body, hands down.
Steve cut his soft brown eyes to her and a knowing smile spread his lips. He ran a
hand through his brown hair, which he wore a tad longer than most guys. The strands
fell right back into place, looking instantly styled. She doubted he went to some
professional salon to get that look, but it almost appeared like he did.
His smile widened and he tucked one hand into his jeans pocket. The stance made the
muscles in that arm bulge. “So what you’re saying is that the bed is worse than the
sofa?”
“I didn’t say that.” She tried not to laugh, but something close to it slipped out
of her mouth. She tried not to stare at his crooked smile and what it did to his lips
and eyes. Or how his muscled arms looked like a safe place to fall. She’d give anything,
even half a bra size to make him … ugly. And unlike her two roommates at Shadow Falls,
she didn’t have much bra size to offer.
She continued to stare at him. She could have dealt with an ugly guy much better than
one who looked like he’d just walked off of some men’s soap advertisement. And hell,
she thought, breathing in his aroma, you’d think after spending the last two hours
as a bird, he wouldn’t smell like he used some spicy-smelling men’s soap, but he did.
He smelled … awesome, and that ticked her off, too.
If she were a witch like her bigger-boobed roommate, Miranda, she’d change him into
a repulsive fowl/foul-smelling guy. And she’d also make him less … nice. She didn’t
like nice.
The only nice person Della had grown fond of was Kylie. And she was so nice, even
Della couldn’t hate her. Well, right now, Della did hate her. Hated her for leaving.
And if she didn’t get her butt back to Shadow Falls soon, Della was going to drag
her friend back kicking and screaming. Sure, Kylie had gone to meet her newly discovered
grandfather and learn more about her species, but plain and simple, she belonged at
Shadow Falls. Someone had to keep Della and Miranda from killing each other. And no
one was better at that than Kylie.
“We could both sleep on the sofa,” Steve said, and damn if he didn’t sound serious.
“Not even in your dreams, bird boy!” she snapped.
“Ouch,” he said and chuckled. “I only meant your head at one end and mine at the other.
Only our feet would be touching.”
“So you’ve got a foot fetish, do you?” she asked before she could stop herself.
Humor brightened his eyes. With him positioned right in front of the bare window,
and the last rays of the setting sun beaming in, she got a good look at those eyes.
Were those flecks
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