the kitchen door, hands over her eyes. She waved.
"Uh, hi, Morgan. Hi. Oh, God. Sorry," she sputtered, and immediately turned on her heel and walked back into the kitchen.
I grinned happily. "And now she knows what it feels like."
"Except we were actually clothed," Morgan pointed out, then looked back at me with a knowing smile. "But we could remedy that pretty easily."
"Yeah, getting naked to teach Mallory a lesson ain't real high on my priority list."
He barked out a laugh, leaning back with the force of it, our bodies still pressed together at the hips, then smiled down at me, eyes bright, grin wide. "I missed you, Mer."
I couldn't help it - my smile faltered, and I hated myself for it. I hated that I couldn't return that careless, joyous smile. I hated that I didn't - or maybe just didn't yet? - feel that same spark that lit Morgan's eyes. I wondered if it could grow, with time and with nearness. I wondered if I was being too hard on myself, expecting too much to think that I could fall for someone after just a few weeks. Maybe I needed more time. Maybe I was vastly over thinking it.
Morgan's smile dipped a bit at one corner. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah, I'm just... It's been a really long night." That was entirely true, so it was really only a lie of omission.
"Yeah?" He pushed a lock of hair behind my ear. "You wanna talk about it?"
"Nah, let's go get some food and make fun of Mallory and Catcher."
He closed his eyes, a tightness at the corners. I'd hurt him, by not telling him about my night, by not sharing more of myself with him, and I slapped myself mentally for it. But when he opened his eyes again, his expression was forgiving, a corner of his mouth tipped up into a smile. "You're going to have to help me out here, Merit. I can't be the only one doing this."
I gave him points for honesty, and for not saying that I owed it to him to try, given that Ethan had all but ordered our courtship. I half smiled back at him, simultaneously feeling a sense of relief, that at least he'd put the relationship issue out there, and a sense of foreboding, that I was going to be the one to bring that relationship down around us.
"I know," I said. "I know. I'm really about as good at relationships as I am at being a vampire. I'm kind of a smart but surprisingly inept girl." That was the entire truth.
Morgan laughed full out, then pressed a kiss to my forehead. "Come on, genius. Let's eat."
Dinner was ready by the time we made it into the kitchen, our fingers linked together as we walked. Morgan slipped his hand away and presented his bundle of red-tipped white tulips to Mallory. "Thanks for having me over."
"Oh, these are gorgeous." She enveloped him in a hug he didn't look like he was expecting, but seemed inordinately pleased by. "And you're welcome. We're glad you could come."
Mallory gave him a bright smile, and gave me a concealed thumbs-up, then set about finding a vase for the flowers while Morgan and Catcher said their manly hellos - consisting of a symbolic head bob from Catcher (of the "You're in my lair now" variety) and a responding nod from Morgan (of the "You are clearly the king of this castle" variety).
A vase in one hand and the flowers in the other, Mallory paused at the threshold of the kitchen. "Merit, do you need blood?"
I didn't even need to think about it. Although I hadn't had a run of overwhelming bloodlust since my first week as a vampire - the First Hunger that had led me to nearly plant my fangs in Ethan's neck, and a second bout of drinking roused by an unpleasant discussion with my father - I wasn't going to risk it, and tried to be preventative by drinking the Canon's recommended pint every other day. Vampires were hardly the monsters we were made out to be in fairy tales and television shows. We were hardly different from humans, but for the genetic mutation, fangs, silvering eyes, and periodic penchant for blood.
What? I said hardly different.
"Yes, I need blood," I told her, petulant as a teenager reminded to take her vitamins, and snatched a bag of Blood4You Type A from the refrigerator. Although Mallory, as a now-former ad exec, found the name embarrassingly sophomoric, she appreciated