The big, soft bed still had sheets and layers of blankets and comforters.
She closed and sat down on the bed. Her hands were cold and shaking, and now that Shane wasn't here, she felt sense trying to knock itself back into her head.
No, she thought stubbornly. No, not this time.
It was less than five minutes before he came in, hair damp around his face, beads of water on his skin and dampening his shirt.
He leaned against the door after closing it, watching her.
"So," he said. "Maybe I should just - "
"Shut up, Shane," she said, and went to kiss him for a long, warm, lingering moment.
Then she reached behind him and locked the door. Just her and Shane, no friends banging on the door, no family ready to drag them apart. Not even a single vampire hiding in the shadows to spoil things.
For once, nothing to make either of them change their minds.
"Don't you dare ask me again if I'm sure," Claire said, and raised the hem of her T-shirt and pulled it off. The cold air glided over her flushed skin and made her shiver. She knew she was blushing, and she couldn't stop trembling, but that was all right, somehow. As she dropped the shirt to the floor, she thought, He's seen me like this before. It's okay.
Shane sat down on the edge of the bed, watching her with absolute concentration. She toed off her shoes, stripped away her socks, unbuttoned her jeans and unzipped them, and kicked them off into the same pile.
He's seen me like this before, too.
She reached behind her for the clasp of her bra. But not like this.
"Wait," he said, and pulled his own shirt off. Beneath it, his skin was paler than she remembered, his muscles more defined underneath. "I just want to keep it even."
She swallowed a nervous laugh. "Then you have to get rid of the pants."
Shane grinned at her and leaned back to work the button and zipper. "Don't blame me for the underwear," he said. "It's prison-issue."
"I am so glad you didn't say that before. Oh, and don't say that to my parents, ever."
Shane's pants hit the floor, along with his shoes and socks. Claire's gaze skimmed over him, and she felt dizzy at the sight of so much exposed skin.
"Come over here," he said. "It's cold."
He folded back the covers and slid in. She followed, feeling awkward and made of angles that didn't quite seem to know how to fit together.
Lying beside him felt strange and, at the same time, completely right. They lay inches apart, turned toward each other on their sides. Yearning, and not touching.
Shane lost his smile for a second. "You can tell me to stop anytime. Always."
"I know."
"I won't be angry about that."
"Shane - "
"Anyway, I just wanted to tell you something."
"What?"
He reached out and touched the back of his hand to her face. "I love you."
Somehow, she managed not to cry, although she knew he'd see the glitter of tears in her eyes. "You said it first this time."
He looked relieved. "Yeah. Finally, huh?"