Page 2 of Batty About You (Pine Ridge Universe #23)

“I’ve always wanted to see you, Kelly.” My voice is equally soft. “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy. Or so broke.” It’s true. More than a fear of getting stuck and seeing Kelly after sundown kept me from her, even when we ended up just one state apart.

“Baby, you don’t have to tell me. Six children means I’m a thrift shop diva. Nine kids must have meant...”

“It’s a good thing we all liked lentil soup, stuffed cabbage, and potatoes. I mean, Dad has a good job, and my grandmother took care of us so Mom could work, too. Anyway, I have money. You don’t have to pay for gas—as long as I can wear my old costume. It still fits.” It grows with me.

“You don’t have to take the twins out trick-or-treating?”

“No. You know my folks. They’re convinced that Halloween is Satanic. They’ll be at home with the anointing oils and getting out the Christmas decorations for November First.”

“Our mothers would be besties.”

“They so would. Like mother, like son.”

“Well. I don’t think they’d have quite the same relationship as we do. Do you?” That breathy, sensual note that makes me hard is back in her voice.

I’m a horny college student. A virgin college student. Kelly probably—

I can’t think about that. We’ve written every month, and our letters and postcards have become emails, texts, and, finally, phone calls.

I know she went to prom with someone. I know she hasn’t told me everything, and it’s none of my business.

.. but I feel sick at the thought of someone else being with her.

Do her little hints mean that she’s more than just a sweet, flirty friend?

Time to break curses and map out my own destiny. This is America, where big cities shake off superstitions.

I hope.

“You’re right.” I make my voice as firm and commanding as possible, mentally telling myself to avoid words that’ll make me sound like a snake. “I don’t think they’d be as devoted as I am. Don’t think they’ve been dreaming of this moment.”

“Oh. Oh, Bogdan.”

“Kelly. I’m sorry I’ve always avoided meeting.

It was distance, and money, and also... well.

You’ve sent me your picture.” Kelly’s ultra-strict parents always kept her off of social media and only let her have an old-fashioned flip phone for most of her life, but I’ve seen her senior picture and a few since then. “I know how gorgeous you are.”

“Stop.”

“No, let me finish.” Damn it. I swallow the long, drawn-out sss I didn’t intend to release. “I’m not handsome. I don’t deserve a beautiful, talented, incredible girl like you. I’m happy and thankful just to be your friend, but—”

“But I want you to be more,” she supplies.

I swallow, nodding slowly. “Right. That’s what I want.”

“No. Boggie... I’m saying that. I want us to be more.

I’ve been waiting for you to come see me.

And... I know this makes me sound like a super creepy stalker, but I’ve been on your high school’s website and scanning every orchestra and band picture I could find.

You’re one of the ten oboe players your school has had over the past four years—and since most of them have been girls.

.. Well, let’s just say that I know you’re either adorable and pale with bushy eyebrows, a really hot guy with dreads and a nose ring, or a picture-perfect preppy white boy.

I’m willing to work with any one of those options. ” She ends with an adorable giggle.

“I’m the bushy one.” I look at my arms and chest, now covered in soft, thick brown fur. “I’ve got fur.”

“Novio, all the men in my family are growing full mustaches at thirteen—and some of the women are, too.”

“I would love you even if you had a full beard, Kelly,” I blurt.

Ohhh, God. Why??

My mother told me that Halloween was the day that I had to guard against, that old, dark magic would be at play, that evil forces would vie for my soul. (Evil forces are apparently catnip to some of my ancestors, and vice versa.)

She didn’t tell me I would be a romantic time bomb on any random day in October.

Kelly’s gasp lingers in my ear. I work up an apology—which is hard to do when you don’t want to say the letter S, and “I’m sorry” and “I apologize” both have that fatal sound.

“I would love you if you were bald or looked like Bigfoot,” she replies, another soft, adorable giggle melting me. “And... I’m glad about the mustache thing. I know it’s going to happen at some point. I’m going to be the kind of woman who needs to get lasered.”

I look down at myself. “Or we could just be natural together. I always feel like things just happen naturally between us.”

“Well, that’s true. I was so worried about writing to a stranger. What kind of sadist thinks an awkward and shy teenager is going to be able to write more than two sentences to some cute high school boy she’s never met?”

“You thought I was cute?”

“Yes!”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me you looked up my picture?” I demand.

“So you didn't think I was a stalker and dump me. I mean... Damn.” Kelly heaves a huge sigh. “Okay, so I used to tell the mean girls at the bus stop that I had a boyfriend, and of course, I told them it was you. I never showed them your picture—because I didn’t know which oboist was really you, but I talked about you all the time. My family thinks... My sisters think I’m in love with you,” she whispers.

“Because I talk about you all the time. And we’ve been writing to each other for seven years, which is literally a third of my life.

Also, you’re the one guy my parents like. ”

“Of course they like me, I’m never around their beautiful daughter to put her at risk.”

That sounds bad.

But Kelly just laughs again, and it reminds me that this is always how things go between us.

We laugh about anything and nothing, and the conversation bounces all over the place from music to classes to food, and our opinions almost always align.

When they don’t, it doesn’t even matter, because the differences are small.

“They like you because you’re a good, respectful boy with nice penmanship who plays the oboe, babysits for his parents, has never written a letter I wouldn’t show them, and who is going to get a double major in music education and pre-med. If I were done with college, my mother would be trying to—”

She stops suddenly.

Like she’s said too much, but when I close my eyes and think hard, it’s like I can still hear her voice, feel the sound of her words vibrating in pictures, sound waves rippling past my senses.

Probably the lycan-vampire-shifter version of echolocation.

With my eyes closed and my wings wrapped tightly around my shoulders, I finish the words I see in my mind. “She’d be trying to plan our wedding.”

There’s silence.

Did I ruin things?

I’m always afraid I’ll ruin things.

Kelly’s voice is so soft, it’s less than a whisper. It’s a ghost, a beautiful, sweet ghost that strokes my mind and runs through my veins until it sinks into my heart. “You always know, Bogdan. You finish my thoughts. My sentences.”

“Maybe because I want the same things you want. Feel the same way you feel,” I confess.

“I have to work at the restaurant soon,” Kelly says, but her voice is suddenly thick. “But I don’t want to go. This is going to be one of my all-time favorite conversations. Favorite memories of you and me. I feel like it’s an important one. The first time you said yes to meeting me.”

“Maybe you’ll say yes to something else I ask you on Halloween,” I reply.

This time, my own gasp blots out hers.

Did that sound like I was hinting at a proposal?

Because I absolutely was, but I shouldn’t have. She’s going to freak. She’s going to uninvite me. Her father is going to kill me. My father is going to kill me.

“Boggie, you wouldn’t joke about that with me, would you? Because... Because that would be mean, and you’re never mean.”

“I wasn’t joking, but I know I shouldn’t have said it. I’m rushing you—”

“I want to be with you.”

Whatever trepidation I had melts in a haze of heart and hormones. “I want to be with you. That night. All the nights. Not that I expect—”

“I have the place to myself. It’s four hours on a Friday night. I hoped you would spend the weekend with me. I have the second bedroom.” Her voice drops. “You don’t have to use it.”

“You wouldn’t think it was rushing?”

“The guy I’ve been telling my deepest secrets and fears to for seven years, the guy I’ve been talking to at least once a day for the last three years, the guy I’ve been calling novio for the last two years... No, Bogdan. No rush at all.”

“Kelly...” I can’t think of any other words. All I can think of is kissing her. Claiming her. Asking her to be mine.

Selfish hope that I can break a curse.

Unselfish fear that I’ll scare her.

Selfish fear that I’m about to get my heart broken. I can’t spend the weekend. I can’t marry the woman I love—not unless I tell her my secret.

Kelly murmurs, “I hate to go, but I really do have to, or I’ll be late.”

“You’re never late.” It’s that good girl vibe that she gives off. Innocent, sweet, helpful, smart. Straight A student, salutatorian, the eldest daughter...

She doesn’t deserve a monster.

A little voice inside my head whispers, “But she wants you.”

And my own, sane, sensible voice snaps back, “Because she doesn't know what you are. Once she does... It’s a life of lies or the end of the romance that never was.”

“I’m sorry I have to go,” her wheedling voice apologizes. “I know this is a big step for us. For you. You can trust me, Boggie. I would love you no matter what you looked like or how shy you are. If you’re anxious about the ball, we don’t even have to go.”

“I want to take you to that ball more than anything. Almost more than anything. Just... Promise me you’ll try to understand if I’m different? No matter what I look like, I have a good heart. I would never hurt you.”

“You’re talking like I think you’re some secret serial killer!

I know you! You know me. You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted.

After we started writing—no one else has ever even been a flash on the radar.

Whatever that means. My dad says it all the time, and I think it means it was nothing.

Everyone else to me means nothing. You mean everything. ”

She thinks that now, says that shitty little voice.

I try not to listen to the voice that agrees, and just focus on Kelly’s words.

“You mean everything to me, too, Kell. More than you’ll ever know.”