Page 80 of The Last Vampire
I don’t think I could ask the question while looking at him.
“Perhaps one of your roommates should help,” he says, not coming any closer.
“They won’t be back for hours, and I can barely breathe.” I look at him over my shoulder. “Come on, you just fed on me.”
His jaw tightens, but my plea works because he moves in and perches on the mattress. Then I feel his fingers brushing my back, loosening the corset bit by bit.
Given the speed with which I’ve seen him move, I know he’s being gentle. Once the dress is fully loose, I hold the fabric against my chest when I turn to face him. “Thank you.”
“You have some…” He looks away from my neck, and his eyes alight on Tiffany’s tissue box. He plucks one and holds it out to me. “There is blood on your neck.”
The dreamy memory of him licking my neck clean comes back to me, and I blurt, “You can use your tongue if you want.”
I can’t believe I just said that.
William leaps back like he’s been shocked with electricity. And before I can take it back, he’s gone.
“SOOOO, WHYdid you guys leave early?”
The instant I open the door to our room Monday morning, my wet hair wrapped in a towel, Salma is sitting up in bed with her chin in her hands. She was still sleeping when I woke up, and since Tiffany is in the bathroom, we’re alone.
“I had a headache,” I lie as I set down my toiletries without looking at her. “William walked me to our tower, then he left.”
“Lame,” she says. “Are you feeling better?”
“Yeah.”
“You sure?” I can hear the frown in her voice. “You don’t look well again.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not planning to be sick for our trip to Hanover this weekend.” I pull on my freshly washed uniform pants under my robe. “What happened with Trevor?”
There’s a long enough pause that I look up at her instead of reaching for my bra.
“Wemight’vehooked up.”
My eyes take over more of my face.
“In an empty classroom.”
My chin drops.
“And I didn’t get back to the room until two hours ago.”
“What!” I squeal, standing on my mattress and clinging onto the rail of her bed. “Tell meeverything!”
“A gentlelady does not speak of such things,” she says in faux indignation.
“Of course not. But what’s that got to do with you?”
I leap back and dodge the pillow she tosses at me.
“I know this is the jealousy talking,” she says while I turn my back to her to shed my robe and pull on my bra. “And just because I want to make you even more jealous, I’ll share this: He’s a Jonas.”
I swing around, a grin tugging on my lips. Jonas is the main character fromThe Giver,so that’s our word for a guy who gives more than he takes.
“And?” I press, buttoning up the white uniform shirt. “What does this mean? Are yougivinghim a chance?”
She rolls her eyes at my wordplay. “We’re friends with benefits,” she says, still clinging to the rail a bit too tightly as she gets down from the bed.
