“Buy some more clothes,” I said, motioning to our bedraggled T-shirts and jeans, “so we look a little less homeless.”
“We are homeless,” Lucas pointed out.
I hadn’t thought of it that way before. “Clothes,” I insisted.
“Not a whole new wardrobe but some clean stuff. And toothbrushes, toothpaste, deodorant—”
“Yeah, I get your point.”
A trip to a big-box store took care of all that. I got a couple of cheap little sundresses, one in dark blue and one in a deep green, that looked cool and comfortable, a simple purse that would go with everything, and a pair of thong sandals that would see me through the summer. Lucas grabbed some khakis and a couple of black T-shirts. Then we went to the drugstore section to get everything we needed to be less stinky, more pretty.
We turned the corner and there, lined up in rows, were the condoms. I started to avert my eyes, the way I always did, because I’d always been slightly embarrassed just by the packaging. I’m that big a wimp. This time, though, I stopped.
“Maybe we should get some,” I said. I meant to sound womanly and confident, but instead it sort of came out squeaky.
“I guess.” Lucas gave me a long, hard look. “Bianca, you know there’s no rush.”
I played with the ends of my hair, which had become suddenly fascinating. “I know that. I do. It’s just—if we want—we should have them around. Just in case. Right?”
“Yeah.”
For a couple seconds, neither of us moved, but then Lucas took the closest box and dropped it into our basket. My heart turned over stealthily, surprising me with the warm glow that seemed to light me up.
I couldn’t make eye contact with the lady at the checkout counter. She didn’t seem to care, though.
We got a hotel room downtown, not far from the bus station. It was nicer than I would’ve expected, for the price—a coffeemaker in the room, a big TV, a nice bathroom with a blow-dryer and tons of fluffy white towels, and a very large bed.
“We should get some more rest before we get anything to eat,” I suggested. We were both so tired that, even with the condoms sitting there in their plastic bag, I couldn’t think of the bed except as a place to sleep.
Lucas seemed to feel the same way. “Yeah, let’s. There are some diners around here we can go to later on.”
“You know Philadelphia?”
“Been here a couple of times. That’s all.”
Together Lucas and I crawled into bed. Nothing was on my mind but sleep—until the moment we were under the covers, with him next to me.
We reached for each other at the same instant. Lucas’s mouth found mine, and we kissed desperately, like we hadn’t been together for years. His arms pulled me close, and I wound both my legs around one of his as our kisses deepened.
Within seconds, it felt like we were still too far away. I grabbed his T-shirt and started tugging it off him; he helped me with that, then pulled mine off. We kissed again, the touch electric with the feel of his skin on mine, but it still wasn’t enough. With shaky hands, I fumbled with my bra straps, pushing them down, then finally unhooking it.
I’d always thought I would feel embarrassed the first time a guy saw me undressed, but I didn’t. Lucas looked at me like I was the most gorgeous thing he’d ever seen, and when he stroked me with one hand, the feeling was better than I’d imagined it could be.
I took his hand in mine and guided it down to my jeans. I wanted to show him all of me. I wanted to feel that beautiful all over.
Lucas helped me undress, then wriggled out of his own jeans and tossed them across the room. I’d never seen a na**d guy before except, like, in paintings and on the Internet. Somehow I’d never thought of the sight as beautiful, not until now. I liked how Lucas looked, how he felt in my hands, the gentle way that he touched me. Whenever I had a moment that I felt nervous or didn’t know what to do, he kissed me again, and all my fear went away.
Mine, I thought. It was the same kind of hunger that overtook me when I wanted his blood, but better, because this way I could drink him in again, and again, and again. The crazy need to bite him was gone, replaced by something else, something that had nothing to do with being a vampire—instead, it was part of being alive. At long last, after years of my wanting him, Lucas truly belonged to me.
Finally, when we were almost past the point of self-control, he whispered roughly, “Bianca, are you sure?”
“So sure,” I said, winding my hands through his hair. “This is how it’s meant to be.”
“Yeah.” Lucas kissed me again, and for the first time in months and months, I knew that, right now at least, everything was perfect.
The next morning, I stirred drowsily in bed, realized that I was actually in a bed, realized that Lucas was asleep next to me, that we were both na**d and then memory came thundering in.
My eyes went wide. Did I really—
Yes, I did really.
It wasn’t that I wasn’t happy about it, because I was. Even though I was a little bit sore—in places I hadn’t known I could be sore—I’d never felt so overjoyed or loved or sure.
Everything seemed so surreal, that was all. Me, in bed with a lover. I pulled the sheet around me tightly, grinning and silly, and it seemed like a shame to leave Lucas out of the joke.
I tickled his leg with my toes, and he shifted against his pillow. One eye opened groggily. Then he grabbed me so quickly it made me squeal with laughter, and towed me on top of him.