saving my money and refused to spend Mr. Ankh’s. That didn’t deter the girls. Every time my back was turned, they purchased something else for me and stuffed it in my bag.
Through it all, I avoided mirrors. I couldn’t bring myself to look at my reflection, even though the girls raved about my appearance.
Sadly, I almost hyperventilated when Kat said, “A new you, for a new direction in life.”
Fine. I did hyperventilate, and it freaked out both girls. It was just, terror had wrapped cold, clammy hands around my neck and squeezed, shutting off my airways. The second heartbeat had become more noticeable, and the intense hunger had returned.
Reeve splashed water in my face, but that wasn’t what jolted me out of terror’s grip. As close as she was, I could smell her—such a sweet, mouthwatering perfume—and I wanted to bite her. So bad. The desire threw me into another tailspin. I plopped into a chair, holding on to the arms for dear life...her life...again struggling to breathe.
Kat called Frosty, thinking I needed medical help only the slayers could provide.
Frosty, Bronx, Lucas and Cole—please, anyone but Cole—arrived at the store fifteen minutes later, and all heads turned in their direction. Eyes widened. Women muttered excitedly. Grown men backed away.
“What’s he doing here?” Kat hissed.
The ringing in my ears was finally fading, allowing me to make out her words.
“Sheathe the claws, Kitten,” Frosty said. “We weren’t sure what we were dealing with. And what did you do to your hair?”
“Duh. I fixed it.”
“But I liked it the way it was.”
“Say one more word, I dare you, and I’ll shave it all off. Your ex-girlfriend will be bald.”
“You aren’t my ex,” he said flatly.
I’d never heard him use that tone with her. And yet, their familiar chatter helped soothe me, and the urge to bite Reeve at last diminished. What the heck was wrong with me?
Then Cole was crouching in front of my chair, and the rest of the world was forgotten. Embarrassment burned my cheeks. Wet strands of hair stuck to my forehead and cheeks. My T-shirt had a water ring around the collar.
I met his gaze, not expecting a vision this time and not getting one. I was careful to keep my features blank. Seconds...minutes...maybe hours passed...but he didn’t do what I needed him to do and leave.
Please leave.
Then something happened. The same something that happened every time we were together.
The air around us came to life, thickening with awareness. My skin prickled in the most delicious way.
I didn’t like it—because I liked it so much.
He must have felt it, too, because he looked away.
Thankful for the reprieve, I scrutinized his body language. His fingers were next to mine, twitching on the arms of the chair, as if he wanted to reach for me but was fighting the impulse.
Did he want to reach for me?
My gaze lifted of its own accord.
He was staring at me again. Only he was staring far more intently, that violet gaze drilling into me, trying to burrow past skin and into soul to search for answers I didn’t have.
“I didn’t need the dark knight to race to my rescue,” I sniped. “I’m fine.”
“Ali,” he said on a sigh. “You’re not fine. Kat said you couldn’t breathe.”
“As you can see, I’m over it.” I was proud of my seeming calm. “You can leave now.”
Concern darkened his features, poking at my anger.
He had no right to feel concern for me.
“Why couldn’t you breathe, Ali?”
“Does it really matter?”
At last he reached up, intending to cup my cheeks the way he used to. Just before contact he caught himself. His hands returned to the arms of the chair, caging me in, making me shiver—and hate myself. “Let Ankh run a few tests.”
“No.” I had been wrong to think I could face Cole today. It was too soon. Especially if he was going to be nice.
Why was he being nice?
“We’re done here.” I pushed him out of the way and stood on shaky legs. Frosty was scrubbing his knuckles into Kat’s scalp while she laughed and batted at his arm. Bronx and Reeve were in the midst of a glaring contest.
“We have more to do,” I said to the girls. Then I marched away without another word, my coat and bags hanging at my sides.
Both Kat and Reeve followed me, ditching the boys without hesitation.
“So...did you know that sleeping with twelve different guys is the same thing as sleeping with, like, four thousand?” Kat asked, breaking the silence, the tension.
I could have hugged her. She hadn’t mentioned our guys, and wasn’t going to. She was trying to distract me.
“No way,” Reeve said.
We cleared the doors of the mall, entered the coolness of the day. I pulled on the coat.
Kat nodded. “I crunched the numbers myself. I’m eighty-three percent sure that I’m one hundred percent sure that my math is perfect. See, if you sleep with a guy, you’ve then been with everyone he’s been with and everyone his other partners have been with and everyone their partners have been with. It goes on and on.” She held up one finger. “Frosty is my only, but he’s been with others and I’m sure they’ve been with others, so, I’m guessing I’ve been with at least fifty people—is there a scarlet letter on my forehead?”
“I wonder how many girls Bronx has gotten into bed,” Reeve muttered.
“Bronx? Did you say Bronx? Because I could have sworn you told me you’re over him and seeing someone else,” Kat quipped.
Reeve pursed her lips.
I took a breath—held it. Exhaled, slowly. Mist formed in front of my face. My first real post-breakup encounter with Cole was now history. I’d survived with the tiniest shred of dignity, and that was more than I’d expected. I was going to be okay.
A twentysomething guy stepped into our path, blocking us. We drew to a halt as he said, “Hey, pretty girl,” with a wide, toothy grin aimed at Kat. “How about some company, hmm?”
Another guy pressed into his side. He eyed Reeve up and down as if she were a stick of cotton candy and he was dying from a sweet tooth.
“No, thanks,” she said, and tried to inch around him.
He moved with her, continuing to block her. “Wait.
