“He will have to take you home tonight.”

“So soon?” I whined.

“It’s really late, actually. Even Jameson’s date is over.”

“So what are you guys going to do? I hope you’re not going clubbing.”

“In this town?”

“Or hiring escorts or something.”

Alexander shot me a look.

“I watch cable. I see what guys do.” And these guys weren’t like most others—these guys were vampires.

“One of you might get hungry,” I inferred.

“Don’t worry. I’m the same guy with him as I am with you,” he reassured.

And with that, Alexander gave me a quick good-night peck on the cheek, a stark contrast to the passionate, long lip-lock we had just shared in the cellar.

Reluctantly, I jumped into the Mercedes and Jameson drove me at a creeping pace toward my house. I caught a glimpse of myself in the rearview mirror. Reflected back was a scowl not unlike that of a four-year-old child who hadn’t gotten her way.

It wasn’t fair. Two guys partying at the Mansion while I had to go home to bed. If I was a vampire, I’d be able to hang out with them all night and chill out during the day near them in my coffin. I’d fit in and not have any reason to be excluded—no longer a mere mortal with a reflection and a curfew.

I fantasized that Alexander would bite me and take me into his exciting and mysterious darkened world. It had been a dream of mine to become a vampire long before I’d even met him. But now that I was dating a vampire—this particular vampire—my broad childhood desire about joining the Underworld had morphed into a specific desire—to be turned by Alexander. But so far that hadn’t happened. I knew in my heart that there was the possibility that Alexander might not ever turn me, that maybe we would share life side by side but separated by our two worlds. I knew the reason he hadn’t bitten me was as much out of love as it would be if he had bitten me.