He chuckled and tucked his elbows under his ribs to hold his head off the bed. “If you don’t like it, you could just get off my bed.”
I smiled as he shoved me gently. “Like I said; make me.”
“If anyone could make you do anything, Ara-Rose, my life would’ve been much easier.”
“Ha-ha.” I flicked his earlobe.
“Ouch.” He laughed, cupping it. “That actually hurt.”
“Sorry.”
“Yeah, right.” He pretended to flick mine, pressing the tip of my nose when I shied away. “Pain.”
“Wide load.”
“Meany.”
“You know I’m joking,” I said softly.
He drew a long breath through his nose, his gaze tracing circles over my features.
I smiled back up at him, seeing the fine lines I’d memorised and the little pupil-sized scar on the bridge of his nose that he got when I threw a rock at him for being a jerk one day. I felt at home in the comfortable silence—the kind we were used to.
“Know what?” he said in that husky whisper.
“What?”
When his face came closer to mine, I almost held my breath, thinking he was going to at least kiss my head, but he rolled onto his back with a rather large huff and linked his fingers behind his head. “I’m tired.”
“Yeah. Long trip, isn’t it?”
“Especially changing over at LAX. I was stuck at Customs for an hour.”
“An hour?” I blew my fringe off my face. “They must’ve been moving fast that day.”
Mike laughed softly and grabbed a pillow from the top of the bed, stuffing it under his head. And as his breathing slowed and the noise in the house died down after Dad and Sam went off to school and Vicki started the car up then drove down the street, I looked out at the clouds through the top of the window, just happy to be by Mike’s side again. Mostly, I could only see the eaves of the roof jutting out above the glass, but beyond that, the summer sky went on forever—leading to the place, the world David was living in today. Even though I knew he was a fast runner, part of me wondered how he was going to get all the way back here from New York every night and still be back there in the morning to start work. Then I wondered what he actually did while ‘operating the Set’.
As the shadows and the yellow glow of the sun moved across the floor and to the wall, I rolled onto my side and watched Mike’s chest rise and fall with his quiet breath, while the vein on his neck pulsed lightly on each heartbeat. It was something so small—seeing someone’s body live, function—but until I’d spent so long with a vampire who didn’t need a heart, I’d never really appreciated the miracle in our design. I wanted to reach inside his chest and feel the blood pulse through his heart, feel it full and fat and living, feel the life in his veins—the life David took from others. And, looking at my best friend sleeping so peacefully, so trusting, a small occurrence crept up; how could I ever take that. How could I reach into a person’s life and take them from the world—destroy their family? Destroy their future, their hopes and dreams. What if it were Mike? Or my dad?
It was all very easy to brush it off and think, “Well, I don’t know this person,” but at the end of the day, how would I feel if a vampire killed someone I loved?
“What you thinkin’ ‘bout?” Mike’s voice startled me.
“Oh, hi, I thought you were asleep.” I tried to smile—it was a pathetic effort.
“Clearly.” He sat up and shuffled to the edge of the bed. “What was on your mind?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I stated.
He sighed and dragged me, by the hand, to sit beside him. As the weight of his heavy arm fell around my shoulder, I nestled my brow under his jaw. The deep, almost candy-musk scent of his cologne made a flash of his bedroom, back home, pop into my mind.
“You smell good,” I noted.
“It’s the cologne you bought me for my birthday.”
“Really?” I sat up and looked at him, incredulity littering my grin. “I thought you said it reeked like an unopened coffin.”
“Hm. I did say that, didn’t I?” His gaze became thoughtful.
“Yes. Among other things.” I looked down at my hands.
“I was a bit of a dick, wasn’t I?”
I shrugged. “You were only young.”
“I was your age.”
“True. So, in that case, I reserve the right to be an annoying cow, since you were.”
“Fine. But only ‘til you turn eighteen.”
“Deal.” I grinned, then, It growled.
“Ha!” Mike poked my belly; “The ogre! I see some things haven’t changed at all.”
“Nothing’s changed, Mike—not really.”
His eyes narrowed, boring into mine. “What’d you mean by that, Ar?”
“Um—” I internally slapped myself on the head with a novelty-sized baseball bat.
Mike stopped for a second, halfway between getting up and sitting back down, then shook his head and pulled me off the bed. “Come on, let’s just feed the beast.”
“Okay. Then, later, I’ll take you across to the school so you can meet my friends.” I bounced on my toes a little.
“Friends, hey?”
“Yup. I’ve made this whole new life for myself, Mike. I'm, like, totally normal now.”
“You’ll never be normal, Ara. You’ve always been—special.” That comment should’ve been followed with the usual head-tilt-eye-wink-combo, but instead, his gaze delved into mine. Golden brown eyes, like maple syrup, creasing in the corners a little with his smile.
“I hope you don’t mean that in a derogatory sense,” I said.
He rolled his eyes, groaning. “Come on, I need food—it’s past lunch time already.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice.” I ran down the stairs ahead of him.
And everything was just the same as before—before all the tragedy and the awkward I-don’t-love-you-the-way-you-love-me stuff. I threw pieces of fruit at Mike while he prepared food and we talked about old times, movies, music, home, and it was easy—for a moment.
Mike, with the sleeves of his dark-blue shirt rolled up, stood chopping onions and coriander at the counter, looking so tall and so grown up that I tried not to look at him—tried not to feel…anything.
But the strange sensation in my body, flooding me with pulsing hot blood every time he smiled, made me long to be in his arms.