“Could have fooled me,” he said as he tugged his coat on and the scent of oil, gas, and redwood came to me. “Thanks for last night. I didn’t want to sit in my hotel room, and I’m too old for the bar scene. I feel like I’m using you to keep from being alone.”

A smile came over me, sort of sad but happy as well. “Yeah, me, too.” I hesitated, not wanting to sound pushy, but it had felt good not to be alone. “So, I’ll call you later this afternoon when I know my schedule?”

He took a deep breath, exhaling quickly as he gathered his thoughts. “Not if I call you first.” Smiling, he opened the door and stepped out onto the stoop. “’Bye, Rachel.”

“’Bye,” I called after him. I slumped until my back hit the door frame, giving him an unsure smile when he looked up from the sidewalk with his keys in hand. His boots were almost soundless on the walk, and I watched him as the cooler air slipped in to make my ankles chill and a stray curl dance before my eyes. I hoped this wasn’t a mistake. I’d had guy friends before, but it usually slipped into something else before it ended.

The human neighbor down the street drove past in his minivan, and when he slowed to check Marshal out, I ducked back inside. Seven o’clock. What was I doing up at seven o’clock? This was a stupid-ass hour to be up.

But I felt good. Sort of melancholy, but good.

The darkness of the foyer was comforting, and I wrapped my arms around my middle as I went back into the sanctuary, grabbing the bowl and bottles on my way to the kitchen. Ivy was in there, and I wanted to know if Rynn Cormel, the charismatic world leader, had taken advantage of my roommate and bitten her.

Squinting at the brighter light and feeling the early hour all the way to my bones, I rinsed the empty pop bottles before dropping them into the recycling bin and slumped into my chair with the last of the popcorn. Ivy was still wearing her coat, sitting poised at her computer and checking e-mail before bed. An open box of flavored cereal was by her keyboard and she chewed slowly. Leaning, I tried to catch a look at her neck, and she jerked back so I couldn’t.

“He seems nice,” she said, her face emotionless, but I could hear a hint of annoyance.

“He is,” I said defensively. “It’s nice of you to pretend to like him, by the way. Thanks.”

The corners of her eyes tightened. “What makes you think I don’t like him?”

Oh, that is just stupid. “Because you never like anyone who pays attention to me,” I said, feeling my pulse quicken, angry that she would try to bullshit me.