Ivy coughed. Red-faced and gasping, she found her breath. The plywood sheet behind her was cracked. Shaking her head, she peered up at me, clearly not focusing yet. She didn’t get up. “He didn’t bite you?” she rasped, her face shadowy in the candlelight.

My legs trembled from adrenaline. “No!” I exclaimed. “You think I’m stupid?”

Clearly shaken, she looked askance at me. Taking a slow breath, she wiped her lower lip with the back of her hand. My gut tightened as it came away red with blood. Ivy stared at it, then gathered her legs under her and got to her feet. I breathed easier when she reached for a tissue, wiping her hand off and crumpling it into a ball.

She reached out, and I sprang back. “Don’t touch me!” I said, and she raised a hand in acquiescence.

“Sorry.” She looked at the cracked plywood, then winced as she felt her back. Carefully she tugged her coat down. Eyes going to mine, she took a slow breath. My heart pounded in time to the pain in my head. “You slept with Kisten and he didn’t bite you?” she asked.

“Yes. And no, he didn’t bite me. And if you ever touch me again, I’m walking out the front door, forever. Damn it, Ivy. I thought we were clear on this!”

I expected an apology or something, but all she did was eye me speculatively and ask, “Are you sure? You might not even notice if he cut your inner lip.”

Goose bumps rose, and I ran my tongue across the inside of my mouth. “He wore caps,” I said, feeling ill for how easily he could have tricked me. But he hadn’t.

Ivy blinked. Slowly she sat on the edge of the couch, her elbows on her knees and her forehead cupped in the cradle of her hands. Her thin body looked vulnerable in the light from the three candles on the table. Crap. It suddenly occurred to me that not only did she want a closer relationship with me, but that Kisten was her old boyfriend. “Ivy? Are you okay?”

“No.”

I cautiously sat on the chair across from her, the corner of the table between us. By any standards, this was a complete shitfest. I cursed silently, then reached out. “Ivy. God, this is awkward.”

She jumped at the weight of my hand on her arm, looking up with frighteningly dry eyes. I pulled back, laying my hand like a dead thing in my lap. I knew I shouldn’t touch her when she wanted more. But to sit and do nothing was so cold.

“It just kind of happened.”

Ivy touched her lip to see that it had stopped bleeding. “It was just sex? You didn’t give him your blood?”