His smile widens with a mocking lilt, and apparently, having feelings for somebody doesn’t mean you give them a break, ever. “What is it you want to do here?”

“Salem, stop being annoying. You know what I mean.”

“Are we having a ‘how do we label this’ conversation already?”

Great, another concern to add to the pile. “Well, we weren’t, but—”

“Evie.” Finally, Salem cuts me some slack, grabbing my bag from where it sits at my feet and slinging it over his shoulder, then pulling me out of the room with his other hand. “Shut your brain off for five seconds and let’s go get breakfast.”

I nod and close the door behind me, waiting for him to give me my bag or let go of my hand.

He does neither.

“You’re my boyfriend, aren’t you,” I say with wonder as he pushes through the exit onto campus.

“That’s kinda the position I’ve been angling for, yeah,” he says without missing a beat. His thumb softly strokes the inside of my palm, sending jolts of lightning throughout my entire body, and it’s so unfathomable to me that it can be like this, feel like this.

Why did I ever give a shit about Craig or Lucas when they were never, ever capable of making me feel anything like this?

“You okay?” Salem asks, and I realize I’ve stopped walking, and now, so has he.

I rise up on my uninjured toes—he is really damn tall—and throw my arms around his neck, kissing him with every ounce of strength in my body, despite the fact that we are very much in public. I don’t care. I can’t wait. And judging by the way an arm circles my waist, holding me close as he kisses me back, his corded leather bracelets pressing into my skin as if to leave no doubt as to whose arm it is, he doesn’t mind one bit. Not even when people start whistling and catcalling.

“Wow, okay,” he says, a little dazed, when we finally part and I retake his hand, swinging it as we walk toward the Beast. “So that’s a yes on the whole boyfriend thing, then?”

“Were you looking for a ‘how do we label this’ conversation?” I ask in disbelief.

“In my defense,” he starts, and I love that his vampiric skin can’t hide the hint of heat creeping into it, “my parents have been bugging me about you every single day. I just wanted to know what I was supposed to tell them.”

“Tell them the wedding’s still on, and I’m ready to call them Mom and Dad as soon as they are. Which I guess was probably last week.”

“Now I’m having second thoughts.”