“It’s just a dream.” I blinked, sitting up a little in my bed. “Mike, David—why are you here?”

“I heard you screaming.” Mike looked at David.

“Ara—” David smoothed my tangled hair from my face. “What were you dreaming about, sweetheart?”

A flash of memory struck my mind; blue, silver, moonlight, and…Jason. His arms, my skin, my hair—brushing against his shoulder—my face, turning slightly as he leaned toward me and…

“Nothing. I—” I looked at the memory again. “I don’t remember.”

“Liar.” Mike shook his head, folding his arms as he stood back. “You’ve always been a terrible liar. David?” He nodded at him then. “Read her mind.”

“No, I won’t do that to her. She has a right to her own thoughts.” David laid back on the bed, as if he’d been there all night, and not on the couch—away from me. “If she wishes to tell me, I’m sure she will.”

Mike huffed and walked away, stopping by my door. “I can help you, Ara. I can help you deal with whatever the problem is.”

No. You can’t. I kissed Jason. I’m sick and twisted and masochistic—you can’t help me. “I know, Mike—I’m sorry. I’ll tell you if I remember.”

The door closed behind him and a pair of eyes burned into the side of my face; David leaned on his hand, smiling. “You know, don’t you?”

“The dream?” I rubbed my face. Outside, the morning attempted to sneak through my curtains.

David waited, with an expectant raise to his brow.

“No. I don’t remember.” I rolled away and covered myself with the blanket, afraid to fall asleep again.

“Was it Mike—is that why you were screaming I hate you?”

“No! I don’t hate him,” I scoffed into my blanket.

“You want to be with him?” David asked softly.

“Sometimes. Not like I want you, though. But it’s too strong a feeling to just ignore. Which is another reason you and I have to remain just friends.”

“So conflicted, my Ara,” he said soothingly and ran a finger over the base of my neck, then down my spine. “So, what are you going to do? Wait for me to leave, then sleep with him?”

“David?” I looked over my shoulder at him, disgusted he said that.

“Just asking,” he said, palms up.

“Maybe if you’d sleep with me, I wouldn’t have desires for him anymore—since I’d be bound to you.”

“True, but when I leave, how will you move on?”

“Easy—don’t leave.” I grinned.

His round eyes focused, seeming to contemplate a thousand scenarios behind them all at once as he stared at my face. “Go back to sleep.” He stood up and walked to the door. “You’re clouding my mind.”

Things kept playing over in my mind, like a song with no ending note. I couldn’t fight the battle of conscience—there was no winning. I’d dreamed of kissing the man who tried to kill me. Had actually kissed my best friend, tearing Emily’s heart out in the process. And the worst part was, the only thing I really cared about was how I felt in my dream last night; how close I felt to Jason, how...safe I felt. That little dream world had more of a hold on me than I wanted to admit.

I sat at the table, drumming one set of fingers, propping my chin up with the others, letting the horrid coffee I made myself go cold. It was more of a prop anyway, an excuse to sit at the table and listen to David and Emily giggling and mucking about while making food they didn’t really need to eat.

I think, of all the people I hurt over the past few days, Emily was hurt most. But she was so calm, mainly because she didn’t really feel she had a right to be upset with me. She did, though. I nearly did something really stupid in a moment of passion with the guy she loves. She has every right to be mad. I kind of wish she’d yell at me or something—anything but these overly-polite, meaningless conversations.

I swirled the badly mixed, discoloured sludge in my cup a few times, listening to how well her and David got along.

It’s so strange they never fell for each other. They’d make a good couple—especially now she’s immortal. Funny thing is though, I don’t know if she’s his type. He’s never really talked about a preference to blondes or brunettes—never really mentioned anything to do with girls in his past. I mean, everyone has an ex story, right? And sharing them is a part of getting to know each other, but David never tells me anything. Wouldn’t surprise me if he’d been with other humans before and only told me he hadn’t. It’s not like I’d ever find out. Suddenly, I don’t feel so special.

Out of my peripheral, I saw Emily nudge David with her elbow as she placed the milk in the fridge, laughing.

He reacts differently to her than he does me. She’s so easily beautiful. I guess it’s good that he likes her, that he thinks she’s so pretty. At least when he leaves, or when I’m gone, he’ll always have her to keep him company. I don’t have to worry about him being alone forever now.

David whispered something to Emily and she nodded. All I got was a huge lump in my throat as I tried to swallow the sugary sludge in my cup, washing down the distaste of insane jealousy. I wondered if they could see me sitting here, or if they didn’t care. Emily even went as far as to offer a sympathetic smile as she passed me, closing her bedroom door; I returned it, because, even though she was flirting with my vampire, I wanted things to be okay between us.

Silence seeped into the house again. I could feel David’s stare burning into my back. If he wanted to make me hurt, it worked. I’ve never addressed the possibility that David may be human inside, that he may be capable of straying from me, capable of getting sick of me. If he doesn’t usually put up with my kind of rubbish, I wonder what sort of girls he dates. Probably very level-headed, career-minded girls. Girls who wear suits and walk fast, talking on mobile phones.

Or maybe he prefers the well-organised, work-from-home girls; the ones who can make casserole, juggling phone calls and emails at the same time.

Stupid thing is, none of those sound like the kind he’d like. I slumped on my hand a little further. But then, I’m not the kind of girl he goes for, either. I wonder how much longer he’ll put up with me before he just decides to be with Emily.