Page 54 of My Roommate Is a Vampire

His shoulders slumped, making him look so sad my heart ached. The enormity of what he faced, what he was trying to do—and everything he had lost over the long centuries of his life—hung unspoken and heavy in the air between us.

“I’ll do what I can to help.” My words, the offer I was making, felt inadequate. Too small.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, a quiet smolder in them that hadn’t been there before.

“I know you will.” A beat. “Will you show meyourInstagram account?”

I blinked at him. “What did you say?”

He frowned. “Did you not hear me?”

“I heard you. I’m just surprised.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t think you wanted to look at Instagram.”

“I don’t want to look at Sam’s breakfasts on Instagram,” he corrected. “But if it’s so important I learn about social media and the internet I would at least like to see something interesting.”

I hesitated.

“My account’s boring.”

“I am certain it’s not.”

“Instagram has zillions of hilarious cat reels,” I hedged, my cheeks going hot. “Let’s look at one of those.”

I leaned forward to click on one of my favorite cat accounts. The inside of my arm brushed up against his forearm in the process, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine. I closed my eyes against the unexpected rush of sensation that coursed through me, just from that.

“Cassie.”

Tentatively, he placed one of his hands on top of mine, stopping my scrolling—and my breathing—instantly. His hand was cool, his palm smooth against my knuckles. I glanced down at our hands, marveling at the contrast between them as I fought to steady my breathing. Warm, and cool. Small, and large. Tanned, and pale.

It was the first time he had ever intentionally touched me. This seemed to occur to him in the same moment it occurred to me, and it surprised him just as much. His eyes widened, pupils dilating as he regarded me.

It took an embarrassing amount of willpower not to twine our fingers together, just to see what that would look like, too.

“Please stop distracting me.”

Frederick’s voice was at my ear, tickling the little hairs at my nape, causing my forearms to erupt in a riot of gooseflesh.

I swallowed, trying to focus on the cat on my laptop screen. The kitty was cute, and really good at snowboarding. He deserved my full attention.

“Distracting you?” I breathed. I could barely hear my voice over the rush of blood in my ears.

“Yes.” Frederick removed his hand from mine. I tried to tamp down an irrational wave of disappointment at the loss of contact. “I want to see your Instagram account. You are trying to distract me with cats.”

I took a deep, steadying breath, and chanced a glance at his face. His eyes sparkled with amusement.

“It’s not working?” I managed.

“No. I like cats well enough. But I have seen cats before. I have never seen your page.” And then, almost as an afterthought, he added: “Please show it to me.”

Did vampires have magical powers that made humans want to do their bidding or something? I wasn’t sure. All I knew was one moment I was about to tell him that while he may have seen cats before, there was no way he’d seen onesnowboard—and the next I was loading up my Instagram, just like he’d asked me to.

Maybe it wasn’t magical power at all. Perhaps it was the lingering effects of how it had felt, having his hand on mine.

I blinked up at the monitor, and at the goofy selfie from five years ago that served as my profile picture.