Crimson Death (Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter #25)(48)

He looked hopeful. Hopeful and soft.

“Well,” I said. “They’d be out of their minds not to accept you.”

We decided to put on a horror movie—with the volume on as low as we could get away with—and I laid the junk food out on the coffee table while Will kicked his shoes off and set up on the couch under the blanket Aunt Linda kept there.

When I was done, he lifted the blanket so I could climb in next to him. “When do your aunt and uncle get back?”

“They’re out to dinner. It’s the first time they’ve done something nice like that for months, so I’m hoping they won’t be in a rush to come home.”

Will nodded, and ran a finger along my thigh. I shivered. “How’s she doing?”

“Umm. Same. She seems a little more tired than usual, but she’s got so many appointments and stuff it might just be that. I don’t know if I’m reading into things or not anymore.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. I’m glad she got to go out for something fun for once, though. It’s really good of you to always volunteer to babysit.”

I shrugged. “She needs help. It’s what we’re here for.”

He nodded, but he seemed distant as he turned to watch the movie. The thick black hood of his jacket was bunched up around his neck, and he was biting his bottom lip. He had the world’s most beautiful lips. When the Great, Ethereal Being was putting together the blueprint for Will Tavares, it must have just figured out the winning formula for the exact shape, thickness, and ratio of the perfect mouth. Then it’d gone and put that perfect mouth on a mortal, just to show off.

Woops. I’d gone all slack-jawed staring at it.

The perfect mouth opened a little. Not too far above it, the world’s most perfect pair of eyes—the origin story of which was probably similar to the mouth—were scanning my own lips. My too-small, not very defined, unremarkable lips.

He touched my jaw. “I always wish I could see inside your head,” he said. “You always seem to be thinking so hard about something or other.”

“It’s not that interesting,” I said. I meant to look at his eyes, but I was right back fixated on his mouth.

He leaned in. “I think you’re extremely interesting.”

The way he kissed me was ginger, like I was made out of tissue paper that could be torn with the slightest sudden movement. For a moment, my rational mind piped up that we should be careful, that Crista or Dylan could come out for a drink or something at any moment, and making out on duty was a little unprofessional, even if it was family duty. But then his fingers were weaving their way through the hair at the back of my head, and his other hand was squeezing my thigh, and—responsibility? What responsibility? Who cared? Crista and Dylan had to learn about birds and bees sooner or later, so win-win, right?

Even though the first time I’d kissed him had been, like, seven months ago, none of the novelty had worn off. Every time his lips met mine, it was the first kiss all over again. And again, and again, and again …

Before I knew it, I heard the movie credits playing in the back of my mind. I broke away from Will, shaking my head at the TV. “It’s over already?”

“Looks like it.”

“I didn’t even watch any of it, though.”

Will tipped his head to one side and ran a hand up my thigh. “I’m sorry to distract you like that.”

“You should be,” I said, leaning back on the couch as he came back up and over me, crashing his lips against mine.

Then a key turned in the lock, and we sprung away from each other with a fluidity that’d make an Olympic gymnastics team green with jealousy.

Aunt Linda and Uncle Roy were laughing when they came inside. They looked lighter than I’d seen them in weeks. Aunt Linda beamed when she saw Will. “Will, hey, how are you doing? I haven’t seen you in forever.”

Will had gone pale, and he stared at Aunt Linda for way too long before replying. At first I thought maybe he was freaking out that we’d almost been caught making out, but then I realized, it wasn’t that. He was just shocked to see Aunt Linda. The skinny, gray-skinned, slowed-down version of her.

“Hi,” he said in a weak voice. “I’m good. How are … how are you?”

“I,” she said, “am fantastic. We just had the best steak ever, at this new place that’s just opened over on Main Street.”

I had my doubts as to how much steak Aunt Linda had eaten, given her appetite lately, but I wasn’t about to point that out.

“Bernetti Café?” Will asked. “We’ve been meaning to go there.”

“Oh, you should. It’s very romantic.”

There was no way Aunt Linda thought the “we” in that sentence referred to me and him—she knew if Will and I had gone public she’d practically know about it before I did—so I had to assume she was doing it to tease Will. Or maybe to even normalize the idea for him.

Will blinked at me. I wondered if he was picturing us on a date, and if the idea was kind of nice or just terrifying. “Good to know,” he said finally, which didn’t give me anything to go on. I would’ve asked him, but I was suddenly scared of what he might say.

Will and I packed up and left at the same time. It was only then that we noticed we hadn’t even started to eat any of the junk food.