Velvet

I looked down, suddenly embarrassed, and not sure why. He put his right arm around my waist and held my hand, pushing me backward. We gathered speed and I had no idea how he didn’t trip over my fumbling skates, but somehow he managed not to, and soon we were gliding gracefully, arching around the pond, spinning together from one end to the other. Eventually we glided to a stop near the edge, his arms still secured around my waist.

And—it was kind of nice, actually, to be held. I mean, I hadn’t really touched a lot of people recently. In the hospital, I wasn’t allowed to have contact with my mom, because the risk of infection was too high, for her. After that, I just didn’t really want anyone to touch me.

But it was nice, standing here with him. It was more than nice.

Suddenly, I was afraid to look at him.

“You’re right,” I mumbled at his feet. “That was fun.”

His hands tightened around me for a moment, and I risked a glance up. He was smiling lightly, eyes still burning silver. “Told you.”

We looked at each other a moment too long, and both became aware of it at the same time. He cleared his throat, letting me go, and glanced up the hill.

“You hungry? There’s lunch in the truck.”

I nodded and we sat and switched our skates out for boots, but when I tried to stand again, he nudged me so that I fell over onto the sled.

“What?” I asked, confused. “Aren’t we going back?”

“Yep,” he said, and picked up the handle.

“What, are you gonna pull me up the hill?”

He frowned at me in an amused sort of way. “Caitlin, I don’t think you’ve really grasped the fact that I’m not fully human.”

And with that he started jogging, pulling me behind him like I weighed nothing. I thought about mentioning that I might be human, but I could still walk, and then I realized he was pulling me up the hill faster than I could have run it, and I would’ve had to rest many, many times.

When we reached the top, I hid my amazement with sarcasm. “Am I allowed to stand now?”

He reached a hand down to me in reply. I took it and stood, watching as he threw the sled in the back of the truck before pulling out a small cooler. We hopped up onto the hood and he produced a thermos from out of nowhere. Adrian was like a sexy, scary Mary Poppins.

“Your aunt said you like hazelnut,” he said, pouring me a cup of steaming coffee into a little tin cup.

“I do.”

I was sort of touched that he’d taken the trouble to find out. For as much vampire trivia as I’d learned recently, there was a lot about him I didn’t know.

He pulled out sandwiches wrapped in cloth napkins, little bags of fresh vegetables, and apple slices. I felt like I was in first grade again.

“So you’re a chef as well as a vampire?”

“God no—I can barely slap together a PB&J. Mariana made the lunch. She’s a bit of a foodie.”

Part of me was really amused that Mariana had deigned to make a meal for little old human me, but all I said was, “Oh, good. It would be boring if you were incredible at everything.” I winked at him to let him know I was kidding. “Speaking of food, my aunt wanted to invite you over for Thanksgiving. I told her you probably wanted to eat with your own family. You totally don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

He leaned back against the windshield, one arm tucked behind his head, which made his shirt pull up just enough for me to see a slice of rock-hard abs. The wind ruffled his hair and he looked like he should be in Vogue’s winter issue.

“I’d love to, but Julian’ll be in town, and we already decided we’d have a big family dinner. I’d invite you over, but we always drink during the holidays.”

It took me a second longer than it should’ve to realize he didn’t mean alcohol.

“When it’s bagged, and there’s a fresh supply sitting right across the table—” He shook his head. “It’s just not a good idea.”

“Sure,” I said, a little more high-pitched than necessary, and took a sip of coffee.

“But that brings up a good point: what to do about holidays. I suppose it’s a little early in the relationship to spend Christmas Day together, but what about Christmas Eve?”

What odd conversations we had. “Sounds good. I’m sure my aunt and uncle would love having you over. Well,” I amended, “I’m sure Rachel would love having you over. I think Joe’s still warming up to the fact that we’re an item.” He smiled and I blushed. “What about your family? I should probably spend some time over there, so everything looks equal.”

He seemed to consider this. “How about we come over to my place that afternoon and your place that evening?”

I nodded and took another bite of sandwich. He set down his apple and hopped down from the truck. “That reminds me—happy birthday.”

I looked at him funny. “My birthday kind of already happened.”

“I know, but I ordered your present and it just came yesterday.”

“You got me something?” I asked, mouth full of sandwich.

He just smiled and rummaged through the backseat of the truck, returning with a brown-paper-covered box wrapped up in a red bow. He set it on the hood with a heavy thud.

“Geez, what’d you get me, a bowling ball?”

“I would be frightened to see you with a bowling ball in hand.”

“Hey! I am completely average at bowling.”

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