My thoughts went to Kist. The twinge from my scar dove to my groin and brought my breath even faster. Swallowing, I forced the feeling from me. I pulled back, glad the table was between us. “That’s what Kisten says, but I can’t separate it. And I don’t think you can either.”

Ivy’s face went red, and I knew I was right.

“Damn it, Ivy. I’m not saying it’s wrong they’re the same,” I said. “Hell, I’ve been living with you for seven months. Don’t you think by now you’d know if I thought it was? But that’s not the way I’m put together. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, but I’m not going to share a pillow with you, and I’m never going to let anyone taste my blood.” I took a breath. “I’m not put together that way, either. And I can’t live my life avoiding a real relationship with someone because it might hurt your feelings. I told you it’s not going to happen between us, and it’s not. Maybe …” I felt sick. “Maybe I should move out.”

“Move out?”

It was a breathy sound of dismay, and the warmth of tears stung my eyes. I stared at the wall, jaw clenched. The last seven months had been the most frightening, scary, and best months of my life. I didn’t want to leave—and not just because she was protecting me from another vampire biting and claiming me—but staying here wasn’t fair to either of us if she couldn’t let it go.

“Jenks is gone,” I said, my voice low so it wouldn’t shake. “I just slept with your old boyfriend. It’s not fair to stay here if there is never going to be anything more than friendship between us. Especially now that Skimmer is back.” I looked at the broken door, hating myself. “We should just call everything quits.”

God, why was I almost crying? I couldn’t give her any more, and she desperately needed it. Skimmer could; Skimmer wanted to. I should leave. But when I looked up, I was shocked to see the candlelight glinting upon a ribbon of moisture under her eye.

“I don’t want you to go,” she said, and the lump in my throat thickened. “A good friendship is reason enough to stay, isn’t it?” she whispered, her eyes so full of pain that a tear leaked out of me.

“Damn it,” I said, wiping a finger under my eye. “Look what you made me do.”

I jerked when she reached across the table and took my wrist. My eyes were riveted to hers as she pulled it to her and touched my tear-damp fingertips to her lips. Her eyes closed and her lashes fluttered. A zing of adrenaline struck me. My pulse quickened, the memory of vampire-induced ecstasy high in my thoughts. “Ivy?” I said weakly, pulling away.

She let go. My heart pounded as she took a slow breath, tasting the air with her senses, running my emotions through her incredible brain, reading the balance of what I might and might not do. I didn’t want to know what her calculations totaled to.