Sun Poisoned (The Sunshine Series) (18 page)

Myles catches up to me in seconds.
“Actually, it’s more 1600s than 1800s.”

I understand he’s trying to joke, but the meaning can’t be missed. I’m reminded, whether or not it was done intentionally, that Myles is way, way older than me.

But I only care for a minute.

He flashes a smile in my direction, placing a hand on the small of my back. In an instant, the strangeness of our relationship is forgotten.

“So,” I say when we’re at his door. Neither of us moves away from each other. I know that I don’t want to go home yet, but I feel stupid asking to be invited in.

“
So,” Myles says back, leaning against the wall. “Here we are. You have successfully walked me to my door.” He doesn’t so much as inch his hand toward the keys hanging on his belt loop.

“
I guess I did.” I smile. “I just wanted to thank you,” I say. “You know, for helping me out today, and patiently listening to us bicker and practice.” I laugh.

“
It wasn’t bad,” he says. “I had fun.”

I laugh again, but I’m not sure why.

“Are you okay?” Myles asks suddenly, slightly squinting his eyes like he’s focusing on something hidden behind mine.

“
Yeah,” I say. “Why?”

“You seem…nervous.”

I stare at my hands.
“Yeah.” There’s no use in trying to hide it.

“
Would you like to come in?” he asks, thank God.

I nod as he unlocks the door.

Once we’re inside, Myles motions for me to sit down on the couch in the living room.

“
You hungry?” he asks just as Malakhi, who was sleeping on the couch, perks his head up in my direction.

I nod again, only now realizing how hungry I am.

Malakhi trots over to me, resting his huge head on my knee as I pet him.

Myles smiles at the cuteness of his dog before asking,
“Grilled cheese okay?”

“
Sure.”

He disappears into the kitchen for a few minutes, the sounds of the stove turning on and plates and cups clinking together ease my mind. Malakhi leaves my side to see what Myles is doing, possibly so he can get some food out of the deal, and without him here to pat, I’m not sure what I should do with my hands. I finally settle for smoothing my dress around my knees.

We don’t talk much as we eat, and my uneasiness doesn’t really subside much when we’re done.

I have no clue why I’m so nervous. Nothing has changed.
 It’s just Myles. He’s sweet and he’s not expecting me to do anything unless I want to.

Then why does it suddenly feel like something in me
has
changed?

Why do I find myself suddenly
wanting
. Wanting something to happen?

“
I never got to say how much I like your hair,” Myles says, tearing me away from my thoughts.

I inspect a section of it between my fingers. It’s still shiny and the magenta, pink, and red are still vibrant.
“Thanks,” I say.

Now I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I’m here, but I don’t exactly know why I wanted to be in the first place.

So without much thinking at all, I lean my head against Myles’ chest, and his arm wraps around my shoulder without any hesitation. It feels natural; simple.

“
So what do you want to do?” he asks.

I shrug. I’m actually pretty content with this. Not thinking about the weird crap going on, still riding my music high, happy in the arms of my boyfriend. I could just do this for the rest of the night.

Myles places his hand on the side of my throat. I'm taken a little off guard, but I'm not uncomfortable. My hand automatically grasps onto his wrist anyway.

“
Sorry,” he says, but he doesn’t move away, and I don’t exactly want him to. “I just want to. . .” he says, the palm of his hand pressing into the steady, thudding, rhythm in my neck. “I forget what it feels like sometimes,” he says into my ear.

I swallow.
“Having a pulse?”

Myles nods.
“Only,” the slight pressure on my neck lets up and his fingers trail lightly over my skin. “Sometimes when I'm with you, like this,” he indicates what he means by lightly squeezing my knee where his other hand rests. “I…kind of have one too.”

I lean away from him so I can see his face, and he's smiling. Slowly, I press my ear against his chest. The same way I did when he told me all of these secrets.

I’m not expecting this, but I can hear it.

It isn't like mine. It's a small, almost mechanical sound. If I breathe too hard, I’ll miss it completely. But I hear the faint, wheezing bumps of it. Too slow, too weak. Unnatural, but there.

“It doesn't change anything,” Myles whispers into my hair. “It's the same thing as evolving to eat food. My heart can beat, but it serves my body no purpose.”

I pull my head away and cup his head with my hand so he'll look at me. His turquoise eyes meet mine.
“Hearts don't have to beat in order to feel something, fortunately,” he says softly.

“
Why didn’t you tell me about this?” I ask.

Myles shrugs.
“It’s relatively new.”

“
It seems like a big deal.”

He smiles, the crescent moon shape appearing at the corner of his mouth.
“Yeah. I guess it is.”

I can't help kissing him.

My heartbeat speeds up again as we shift our weight so we're more comfortable. He’s not exactly on top of me, but when we’re side by side on the couch, his head is above mine. His hand that was resting on my neck is now at the back of my head, the one that was on my knee inches up to my thigh, skimming the hem of my dress. I let it all happen without feeling like I should stop him.

Myles only kisses me once before his body tenses up and he leans his head away from my face, burying it in my neck.

“Are you okay?” I ask, out of breath for no reason.

He nods.
“Fangs,” he mumbles under his breath.  After a few seconds, he lifts his head. “I'm alright.” And when he smiles, I see a flash of his slightly sharper canines before they disappear.

Myles kisses me again, and we keep kissing.

My skin gets hot, my hands intertwining in his hair as one of his comes to rest at my ribcage. His mouth leaves mine only to kiss my cheek, my throat, my collarbone, then back to my neck, shooting hot waves of uneasiness, then contentment through me.

And what’s supposed to be a passing thought turns into a very real, lingering impulse. I think for the first time, what would it be like, his mouth on my throat, his teeth—fangs—embedded in my skin?

“Go ahead.” It leaves my mouth before I have a chance to think about it.

Myles stops, and I'm sure he's about to ask me if I'm crazy when he pulls away so he can look at me. But instead he asks,
“Are you sure?”

I lean into him, his lips against my cheek.
“Does it hurt?”

I feel him smile against my skin.
“No.”

“
Will it leave a scar?”

He kisses me on the lips.
“No.”

“
Okay.” I stick out my neck and close my eyes.

I hear him laugh softly.
“No, not like that,” he whispers in my ear as his hand cups the side of my face.

I relax as
Myles kisses me again. His hand doesn't leave my temple, but his lips trail to my cheek, then to a spot below my right ear, down the side of my neck. I'm vaguely aware that his free hand reaches around to rest on the small of my back.

My heart was beating fast before, but it's nothing compared to this.

This time, it's not fear that has me breathing too hard, not some part of me telling myself no. This is something new.

My arms wrap around his waist, where I can feel all the muscles of his abdomen and his ribcage expanding and contracting, matching my own breathing almost exactly. Our bodies are so close, and I want them to be closer.

When I feel it, it's not what I was expecting.

My brain becomes slightly fuzzy and it’s like he's just kissing my chest at first. A really intense, deep kiss centered at my left collarbone.

There's an unmistakable piercing of the skin. That same pressure and then release that comes just before a needle goes through your ear or nose, but the pain doesn't follow.

I wait for it. My head becomes light, my limbs start to go limp. Instead of pain, my entire body tingles, from my lips to my hips to my thighs. I don't hate it.

Myles' hand slowly travels from my face to the back of my head, cradling me as he shifts over me and we sink deeper into the couch. His thumb smoothes my hair back and forth, over and over again.

My hands clutch onto his shoulders from underneath his arms, grabbing onto the fabric of his shirt as his shoulder blades flex and he tries to keep his weight off of me. Having him on top of me doesn't bother me the way it had before; it only intensifies my wanting him to be closer, so much closer.

My heart beating drowns out all other sounds. My breathing against his becomes the most important thing on the planet.

It feels like an eternity slips between our bodies, but as soon as I'm aware of the time that passes, it's over.

Myles slowly pulls his head away, and immediately I'm left feeling bereft, like he's been torn from me. My head follows like we're attached in some way. Gently, the hand that he has behind my head guides me to a pillow. My eyes open, but everything spins and I can't focus on anything.

“
Keep your eyes closed for a minute, okay?” Myles' hoarse voice whispers into my ear.

I don't argue with that. A tingly sensation floats over my body and my head. It's like there's sparklers lighting up and fizzing, playing with every nerve ending.

I try to calm my breathing back to normal as my head sinks into the fabric of the couch pillow. Myles moves my hands away from his shoulders, lying them on my stomach. I sense him get up, and my fingers clamp around his wrist.

“
I'll be right back,” he says gently. “Okay?”

My neck feels stiff, but I nod anyway as I let go.

I hear him walk down the hall and into the bathroom. Water running. He's only gone a minute or two, but my body aches for him to come back.

Before I can give this a second thought, Myles has returned, the weight of his body dipping in the couch near my legs when he sits. The feeling that he's too far away fades
immediately when a hand grazes my cheek. My eyelids flutter open to Myles' smiling face. His eyes shine in the dim light, his fangs are put away.

And I have never felt so high in my entire life.

Everything around him shimmers and sways, his pale face is practically glowing.

Myles turns my head to the side to inspect the mark he's created. From the feeling of a slight wetness, it's just above my left collar bone, but it doesn't hurt. My eyes close again as I hear the sound of plastic crinkling. He smoothes a large, square Band-Aid onto my skin.

“Are you alright, Sophie?” he asks, voice soft and echoing all around me.

I can't help the dopey smile that spreads across my face.
“Uh huh.”

The fabric of my dress is pulled back over my knees. I wasn't aware that it had gotten as far as my upper right thigh until Myles adjusts it to where it’s supposed to be. Honestly, I don't even care.

“Dizzy?” he asks at the same time my eyes crack open.

I nod, the smile sticking to where it is.

I turn on my side, pressing my back into the sofa as far as it will go so Myles can lie with me, wrapping his arms around my waist as I do the same to him. A slight chill passes through me as he pushes the hair from my face, and he takes the blanket hanging over the back of the couch and covers me with it, tucking it around my shoulders.

“
Cold too?” Myles asks.

I nod again, snuggling into his chest. I can hear the mechanical beating of his heart whisp
ering to me through his shirt.

“
You feel warmer,” I say.

One hand strokes my hair.
“The blood,” he says quietly.

“
I'm tired.” Apparently my brain can't keep to one subject right now.

Myles shifts his weight and kisses my forehead. I feel a little wash of heat spread from where his lips meet with skin. I smile again.

“You're going to be for a little bit,” he says. “A side effect.”

My hand finds his.
“Any other. . .” It takes a few seconds to think of the word, even though Myles just said it. “Side effects?”

He laughs softly again.
“Don't worry. The drugged feeling will be gone by tomorrow.”

I find myself oddly disappointed by that.

“You might feel closer to me,” he whispers. “Want to be around me more. And I might feel the same way too.”