Page 74 of My Roommate Is a Vampire

He dropped his grip on my arms and ran an agitated hand through his hair.

I peered at him. “You just wanted to see if...?”

His expression was unreadable. “I just wanted to see if anything...significant... had changed.”

What? “You wanted to see if... anything had changed?”

He nodded. “Yes. It has been a while, since I...” He shook his head and shoved his hands deep in the pockets of his jeans. “Over the years there have been...trendsin this area, you see. What is desirable in a kiss in one era may not be pleasurable in another.”

Oh.

Oh.

“And you’re curious about what those trends are right now?”

He swallowed. “Yes.”

I had no reason to think his curiosity about modern kissing trends was anything but purely intellectual. He was curious about a lot of things in the twenty-first century—everything ranging from urban sewage systems to Midwestern politics. But something about the way he was now steadfastly looking at everything in the room but me made my heart knock hard against my rib cage—and gave me the courage to admit something very stupid.

“I’m curious, too.”

His eyes snapped to mine. “What?”

Operating on pure nerve, I clarified. “I’ve never kissed a vampire before.” I didn’t have to admit that I’d wondered what it would be like to kiss him specifically, right? “So I’m curious about what it’s like.” At the thunderstruck look on his face I added, “Purely from an intellectual standpoint.”

A beat. “Of course.”

“For science, honestly.”

“Science.”

“Comparison purposes.”

“What other purpose could there be?”

We stood there in the kitchen for what felt like entire minutes, just staring at each other. The soup was still bubbling on the stove. It sort of smelled like it was burning at this point. I didn’t care.

I took another step closer, until we were near enough to oneanother that I could see all the variations of color within his dark eyes. They weren’t a monochromatic brown, like they appeared from a distance. His irises contained very subtle pinpricks of hazel as well, combining with the brown to create the richest, most beautiful eye color I’d ever seen.

I licked my lips. His eyes fell directly to my mouth.

“What do you think about us showing each other what it’s like?” His voice was barely above a whisper. “For science. And comparison purposes.”

I nodded. “I’m hardly an expert, but I’m probably at least as knowledgeable about modern kissing trends as that article.”

His jaw tightened. “Probably.”

“And given that Iamyour point person for lessons on living in the modern era—”

“It only makes sense that it should be you,” he agreed. “Likewise, I do not claim to be an expert at vampire kissing, but...”

He trailed off. His eyes were still focused on my mouth.

The offer was out there, now—for both of us. There was no taking it back now.

Before I could remind myself that kissing this gorgeous, undead man who wanted to make me chicken soup and said he liked my art might end up being the worst decision I’d made in a lifetime full of not-great decisions, I placed my hand on his chest, right over the place where his heart would be beating if he were human.

He closed his eyes, taking several very deep breaths. He inclined his head a little towards me, again making me wonder if he could hear, or even smell, my heartbeat.