up with a worried not-quite-frown that smoothed away in relief when he saw her coming to join him. "Don't do that," he said.
"Do what?"
"There's something off about her right now. Don't you see that? Don't try to help. Just walk away."
Claire tapped the gold bracelet on her wrist. "Yeah, that'll work."
He pulled her out of the stairwell and shut the hidden door. Michael and Eve were already going downstairs, hand in hand. "It's getting late," he said. "You going or staying?"
"Does it have to be one or the other? Maybe I stay for an hour, then go?"
"Works for me," he said, and took her hand. "I've got a surprise for you."
The surprise was that he'd cleaned his room. Not just randomly picked up a few things, but really cleaned it - everything put away, bed made, everything. Unless . . . "What did you trade with Eve?"
He looked wounded and way too innocent. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, come on. You totally traded with Eve to clean your room for you."
He sighed. "She needed some cash for something, so yeah. But it's good, right? You're impressed I thought of it?"
Claire suppressed a laugh. "Yes, I'm impressed that a boy thought about spending money on a clean room."
"Worth it, as long as you're impressed." He flopped on the bed, leaving space for her, and she curled up next to him in the circle of his arm. Her head rested on his chest, and she listened to the strong, steady beat of his heart. I wonder if Eve misses that, Claire suddenly wondered. I wonder if she forgets, and then . . .
"Hey," Shane said, and tickled her. She squirmed. "No thinking. This is the no-thinking zone."
"I can't help it."
"Guess I'll have to distract you, then."
She was going to say, Yes, please, but he was already kissing her, and his big hands slid around her waist, and all she could think was yes as her blood surged faster, hotter, and stronger.
It was more like two hours before she could even stand to think about going home. The temptation to stay here, curled in Shane's arms forever, was almost overwhelming, but she knew she had to keep her promises.
Shane knew it, too, and as he gently combed the hair back from her face with his fingers, he sighed and kissed her forehead. "You've got to go," he said. "Otherwise, it's parents with pitchforks and torches."
"Sorry."
"Hey, me, too. I'll get the keys." He slid out of bed, and she watched the light gleam off his skin as he picked up his T-shirt and pulled it on. It was all she could do not to reach out and pull it off again. "And you really need to get dressed, because if you keep looking at me like that, we're not going anywhere."
Claire retrieved her pants and shirt and put them on, and caught sight of herself in the mirror - for once, in Shane's room, not obscured by random piles of stuff. She looked . . . different. Adult. Flushed and happy and alive, and not really geeky at all.
He makes me better, she thought, but she didn't say it, because she was afraid he'd think that was weird.
Shane borrowed Eve's car to run her back to her parents' house - her home? - and by midnight she was at her bedroom window watching the big, black sedan pull away from the curb and accelerate away into the night.
Mom knocked on the door. Claire could tell her parents apart by their knocks. "Come in!"
When her mom didn't say anything, Claire turned to look at her. She looked tired, and worried, and Claire wondered if she was getting enough sleep. Probably not.
"I just wanted to tell you that I left you a plate in the fridge if you're hungry," Mom said. "Did you have a good day?"
Claire had no idea how to answer that in a way that wouldn't sound completely insane, and finally settled for, "It was okay." She hoped the scarf she'd wrapped around her throat covered up the bruises, which were turning rich sunset colors.
Mom knew that was a nonanswer, but she just nodded. "As long as you're being safe." Which was less about the vampires than about Shane. Claire rolled her eyes.
"Mom."
"I'm serious."
"I know."
"Then stop looking like I'm being an idiot. I'm worried about you getting hurt. I don't doubt Shane means well, but you're just so - " Mom looked for another word, but settled for the obvious one. "So young."
"Not as