“Coby's too worried about his hair and his angst to notice,” Tex says. I very much doubt that, but I shut my mouth.

“So this was an interesting day,” I say to no one in particular. “I feel like we should have another powwow tomorrow. We have a lot of things to talk about.” Mainly how the hell we're going to get rid of Di, or at least get her to retract the binds.

“Works for me. You want to meet here tomorrow afternoon at one?” Tex says, speaking for her group.

“I'll be here as well,” Helena says.

“Sounds good,” I say and watch Tex and Viktor get back in her car. Helena waves to us and dashes off into the woods.

“I'm still not quite sure what to make of her,” I say to Peter as he shucks his shirt off and hands it to me.

“I am not sure, either. She is... very different from Di.”

“Understatement of the century, Peter.”

***

I tell Mom that Peter is coming over and his car is broken so I have to get in my car and pretend I'm picking him up, because Dad is in the kitchen when I get home. In reality I drive to the end of the driveway, pull onto the shoulder and try to get him to make out with me when he gets in the car.

“You're supposed to be nice,” I say. At least he let me hop over the console and straddle his lap. It's the sexiest position I've ever been in. I lean my face in, smiling at him. He reaches forward, almost meeting my lips before pulling back.

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“Tease,” I say, smacking his chest. “All that love talk got to my head,” I say, trying to make a joke. “Sorry, I shouldn't have used the L word.” I try not to say it too much. It's like saying the devil's name or something.

“Come here,” he says, taking my face in one hand and pulling it toward his lips.

I smile against his mouth as we kiss. I tried slipping him tongue before, but he never lets me in. Until now. I'm so surprised, I pull back a little. He follows me, slipping his tongue into my mouth. I make a little sound of surprise as his tongue touches mine for the first time. Then it's like everything takes over and it's like we've done this a million times, except it feels like the first.

Our mouths work with each other instinctively. I know where to go and he knows how to lead me there. My hands slide under his shirt, feeling his hard stomach. His hands wrap around the back of my neck and dive into my hair. Who knew kissing was hotter when his temperature is lower than mine?

I have no idea how long we're in the car, but he's the one who pulls away first. I gasp for air.

“You need to remember to breathe, my Ava-Claire,” he says, pushing my hair away from my face. I giggle, drunk on his kisses.

“It's hard to remember so many things when you're kissing me. My brain kind of shuts down.”

“I understand the feeling.” His arms trace my sides. He never tries to undress me, and that bothers me a little.

“What's wrong?”

“You don't touch me.”

“I am touching you right now.” His fingers trail up my arms, making my skin shiver.

“You know what I mean,” I say, pushing my hands under his shirt to show him. He looks at me, not blinking. I wait for him to answer. It takes a few moments.

“The reason I don't do that is because I wouldn't be able to control what happened next. I would tear this car apart to get closer to you. This does not seem like the right venue for that sort of thing. Nor your bedroom. Too many breakable things.”

“So you're worried you're going to break some of my stuff? But not me, right?”

“It could happen,” he says. I entwine our fingers and hold them in front of our faces, studying the difference between his hand and mine. Somehow we work. The human and the vampire angel.

“So what you're saying is we need to be in a place where it's okay to break things.”

“It would be better that way, yes.” He's trying to figure out where my mind is going.

“Well, there's nothing to break in the sky,” I say, smiling.

“Ava, that would not work. What if I dropped you?”

I run my finger down his nose. “You wouldn't. I'm not afraid of falling when I'm with you.”

“It is a recipe for disaster.”

“Well, I don't really have a good track record of good decision making. Reckless, remember?”

“You are. My reckless girl.”

“I like it when you call me yours.”

“As I am yours.”

“I adore you,” I say, using his replacement for I love you.

“And I adore you.” He gives me the perfect smile. I want to make out with him again, but there isn't time.

“I think it's time for me to pick you up,” I say, using air quotes. Peter lifts me off his lap and deposits me in the driver's seat with way more grace than I used getting over there in the first place.

“I should probably be bringing something.”

“Don't worry about it,” I say. He doesn't need to kiss up to my mom, and my dad is always going to hate him. He could show up with an entire four-course feast and a Rolex for him, and Dad still wouldn't like him. Dads are engineered to hate their daughter's boyfriends, especially when his natural reaction to a noctalis is negative. It is a lose-lose situation.

“It will work out,” he says, and I turn the ignition.

“Someday I hope your confidence will rub off on me.” As well as other things.

I try to pull out of the ditch, but the tires just spin.

“Aw, crap.” I try, but the wheels just kick up dust.

“One moment,” Peter says, getting out and shutting the door. Seconds later, the car moves forward. I pull out of the ditch and into the road. I stop, giving him a chance to get in.

“My hero,” I say, clutching my hands to my chest. “What would I do without you?”

“Be human.”

“Pft. How boring,” I say, taking his hand.

***

Peter stays for dinner, but doesn't eat with us, because of his lactose intolerance. I also add that he was recently diagnosed with Celiac disease, which cancels out most other food. Peter gives me a look that says, nice going. I'm proud of myself.

Dad is surprisingly nice about it. Whereas before he was offended or something about Peter not eating with us, now he just says that it's a shame. I glance at Peter in shock. He just blinks.

“When do you get out of school, Peter?” Mom asks.

“June 15,” he says, naming the exact same day that I get out. It's easier that way.

“Do you have any summer plans?” She toys with her fork, not really eating anything. We all pretend not to notice.




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