They weren’t saying anything Della hadn’t already concluded, but it hurt to know she wasn’t the only one to notice.
“I … I gotta go. I’ll be back here before four.” She took off, not even sure where she was going, except to find Steve. Heck, she didn’t know what she was going to say to him, except to tell him she was leaving. But the hurt and jealously radiating through her stung deep. It reminded her of how she felt when her dad walked out yesterday.
Chapter Sixteen
Della ended up at Steve’s cabin. Instead of knocking on the door, she peered into his window. Heart still hurting, she studied him. Looking comfortable, he stretched across his bed. His orange T-shirt lay on the corner of his nightstand. All that golden skin covering his chest and back looked so touchable. The muscles in his shoulders and arms had her remembering what it felt like to lean against him. His faded jeans fit nicely—not tight, tight would have looked gross—but snug enough to showcase the firm body below.
Holy moly, she wanted to pull that window up and crawl into that bed with him. To feel all of him, against all of her. She wanted to forget her problems and just let him make her feel … alive and cared about.
It wasn’t just how much she liked how Steve looked. She liked how he made her feel about herself. He made her feel normal. And sexy. The smile pulled at her lips again as she let herself enjoy the view a little longer.
Instantly, she recalled their conversation when Jessie had knocked on his door and mentioned him being shirtless. The fact that she wasn’t the only one enjoying the half-naked Steve had her chest tightening with jealousy. And that feeling confirmed her fear.
She was too damn close to falling smack-dab in the middle of love with the sweet, hot shape-shifter lying on that bed. Did she really want to go there again? Hadn’t love already let her down once?
Steve glanced up, a sexy bedroom smile spread across his expression. Then he bounced off the mattress and opened the window.
“I was hoping you’d drop by.” He offered her a hand.
She debated telling him to come outside, not wanting to stir up any rumors by getting caught in his bedroom. Then again, he’d already been caught leaving her bedroom. Sure, Derek wasn’t the type to start rumors, but according to Jenny, everyone already knew Della and Steve had a “thing.”
Define “thing,” her heart screamed out as she placed her hand in his. His warm palm came against hers. That touch was all it took to make her whole body zing with electricity. Steve’s touch was like a live wire, and yet despite its intensity, she still wanted more.
Her breath caught. Was she going to let this continue? Or was she going nip this thing in the bud before … before it was too late?
It might already be too late, a voice inside her head whispered.
She let him help her up even though she didn’t need his help.
Her feet weren’t flat on the floor when he pulled her against him and kissed her.
She put her hands on his chest to protest, but nothing inside her wanted to object. So she didn’t. She let it happen, like she’d let all his kisses happen. Had she successfully stopped even one of his kisses? She didn’t think so. When it came to him, she was a weakling. Was it wrong not to hate that?
He tasted a little like mint. He tasted like Steve.
And she loved that taste.
His tongue slowly glided over hers. His warm hands found her waist and pulled her against him. Of all the places in the world, right here, in his arms, was her favorite.
She let herself lean into him, just a little, and only for a moment.
Ever since she’d been turned, she’d sworn she didn’t need anyone. Not her parents, not Lee, not even her friends from her old life. But when Steve held her, she wasn’t so sure it was true anymore.
“I missed you,” he said, pulling back just a bit.
I missed you, too. The words perched on the tip of her tongue, but she didn’t say them. Looking up, she saw that his pupils were large. His warm breath brushed across her cheek.
She swallowed and tried to figure out how to tell him she was leaving. Tried to figure out if she had the right to ask him about Jessie.
He moved in to kiss her again and she put her fingers on his lips. “Steve, I … I need … we need to talk.”
“I know.” He smiled. “My mom and dad are coming tomorrow and I wanted you to go out with us for dinner. They want to meet you.”
Meet his parents? They wanted to meet her? Bad feelings started going off like fireworks in her head. Feelings that took her back to her and Lee’s relationship and how his parents hadn’t liked her. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why would your parents want to meet me?”
“Because I’ve mentioned you and they’re curious. Because I think they know you’re important to me.”
Important to him? She shook her head. “That’s not a good idea.”
“Why?”
Because if I meet your parents, it’s official. I’ll officially be your girlfriend. And they may not like me. “Because I’m not going to be here.” It wasn’t a complete lie. She took some comfort in knowing that.
His brow pinched. “This isn’t a parent weekend.”
“I know, but I’m going to Kylie’s house. Miranda and I both. That’s what I came to tell you.”
He frowned. “My parents hardly ever get off on the weekend. Can’t you go to Kylie’s later?”
She shook her head. “No, because I’m … I’m not just going to visit, I’m going to check out the funeral home where my uncle’s funeral services were held. I realized that my cousin Chan’s funeral services were held at the same place. So maybe they can give me something about my uncle and my aunt.”
Looking unhappy, he shook his head. “How did you find this out?”
“The obituary. Remember I told you that Derek found it?”
“Yeah, but you didn’t tell me about the funeral home. Or your plans.” His frown tightened and pulled at the corner of his eyes. “Going into a funeral home that fakes people’s deaths could be dangerous. Have you cleared it with Burnett?”
“He’s agreed to me going to Kylie’s,” she answered. “And Kylie’s a protector.” Steve didn’t need to know the approval only came with Holiday’s persuasion. Or that they didn’t know anything about …
Steve paced across the room and then confronted her again. “Della, I don’t like this.”