“Tell him I’m sick.”
Esmé went away without arguing.
She’d just as soon put him off, Vivian thought.
She only told me because she hoped the phone call would get me out of my room.
After Esmé left for work, Vivian tried to phone Orlando Griffin and find out what her options were under pack Law. There was no answer. She slammed the receiver down. Then Rudy came home, and she didn’t want to call again with him around. She was relieved when he opted for an early night and left her alone with HBO. She fell asleep on the couch on purpose so she could snarl at Esmé when her mother woke her up to send her to bed.
Rudy rose early on Saturday to go bicycling before the temperature soared into the nineties, and Esmé slept in late as usual, so Vivian found herself alone when she wandered downstairs. She tried phoning Orlando, but again there was no answer.
“Where on earth has that old wolf got to?” Vivian muttered to herself. She thought old people stayed put and had routines.
The phone rang, and she answered before the bell had a chance to wake Esmé then she cursed herself silently. What if it was Gabriel?
It wasn’t. “Hi, Vivian. Feeling better?” Aiden had called again.
For a moment she felt out of sync with the world. His voice was so normal, so innocent.
“Not really,” she lied. “I’m still kind of weak.”
“Flu?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s a bitch,” he said. “It’s even worse getting sick in the summer.”
“Yeah. Still grounded?” she asked.
“Yeah. But relief is in sight. My parents are going out tomorrow night. They’re seeing old friends. People who keep them out late. Get it? Huh, huh? Wanna come over?”
“What about your sister?” Vivian asked. His sister seemed the type to squeal in a second.
“Going to a sleepover.”
“That’s convenient.”
“You don’t say. So how about it?”
She hesitated. The invitation was tempting in the extreme; any other time she wouldn’t think twice, but with what she had done to Astrid did she dare let herself be alone with Aiden no matter how much she longed for him? She’d thought she was in control of herself; now she was no longer sure.
“Please, please, Viv. I miss you.” Aiden’s voice was hushed and seductive, as if his head lay on a pillow next to hers. Desire stirred in her. “I miss your toes,” he continued, “I miss your feet, I miss your calves, I miss your knees, I miss your thighs, I miss your…intellect.”
Vivian burst into laughter. How could that funny, sweet boy bring out the violence in her? He wasn’t like Astrid. “Look, I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know how I’m feeling,” she said.
“Early, or I couldn’t stand it.”
“Early,” she promised.
“Cool.”
Vivian was still smiling when she walked into the living room, but what she saw there wiped the smile off her face.
“How did you get in?”
Gabriel lounged in an armchair. “Rudy.” Even at rest he looked powerful, and she kept her distance. She noticed the white of a bandage under the hem of his shirt, and the shiny pink and white of new scars on his arms. She thought of the damage he could inflict and shivered.
Gabriel grinned lazily. “Don’t be pissed off at him. I pulled rank.”
Yeah, Vivian thought.
And I bet you loved doing it.
“What do you want?” she asked.
Gabriel raised his eyebrows. “I thought you knew.”
“Well, you can’t have it,” Vivian snapped. “So go.” Inside she was trembling. She marched out of the room and to the kitchen, where she banged the toaster oven open, then grabbed a bagel and began to saw at it with a serrated knife.
Gabriel came up behind her and placed his hands over hers, stilling her motions. The heat of him scorched her from the backs of her knees to the nape of her neck. “You’re gonna cut yourself that way,” he murmured, his breath in her hair.
“Who cares?” She thought briefly of slicing his hand but dismissed the idea. He was much bigger than her and didn’t mind hitting females.
He took the bagel and knife from her, and she ducked under his arm and left the heat of him behind. He cut the bread carefully. “Toasted?” He was so damn calm, so irritating.
“No.”
He placed the bagel in the open toaster oven and pressed the lever. “Sure.”
She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him. “So. Are you going?”
“We can take it slow,” he said. “You can learn to be with me. Find out what I’m all about. You never know, you might like what you find.”
“Don’t hold your breath,” she said.
He stepped toward her casually, amusement flickering around his lips. She tensed, her eyes checking for a way to run.
“Or…” His hand lashed out, grabbed her, and whipped her into his arms, where he held her tight. “We can take it fast and rough.” His mouth came down on hers and his hot tongue parted her lips. She pulled back, but he caught her hair in his fist and pressed her close. She pushed on his chest and struggled in his arms, but he wouldn’t let go.
Damn him, she thought, tears forming.
I don’t want fierce, I want gentle.
When she tried to knee his groin, he pulled away of his own accord, laughter in his eyes.
“You think you’re such a stud, don’t you?” she said.
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