I’d give just about anything to have this forever, and I smiled up at him, liking him the best when he was relaxed and happy, stubble and all. “Maybe we should just keep playing dead.”

Silent, his worry slid back behind his eyes. “I’m sorry you saw that yesterday.”

“Saw what?” My fingers played with the rims of his ears. I knew what he was talking about, but sometimes it was better to pretend.

Propped up on his elbow, he took my fingers in his and kissed them. “With the vampire.”

My breath came in fast, and I tilted my head, trying to catch his eyes with mine. “It wasn’t anything I didn’t know was there.”

“It ... I promised myself—”

“Trent.” I pulled him to me, finding his lips with mine, feeling a thrill coil down through me and rebound against his own desires. Slowly I eased back into the pillow, but his eyes were just as worried, just as furtive. “I know who you are. And I love you.”

His eyes darted to mine, and the first hints of a smile eased his worry. “I don’t deserve you,” he said, sitting up and pulling me into a heartfelt embrace. “I love you, too,” he whispered, his warmth tingling between us as he held me close.

“Waffles are out!” came faintly through the walls.

My throat was tight. I gave him a final squeeze and his arms eased their grip. I wanted this to last, but even now I knew better than to hope. Trent gallantly held my robe out for me to shrug into, tying it with a suggestive firmness before finding his own robe. Disheveled and feeling odd, I followed him out of our tiny space and into the world again, my hand loosely in his as if I was afraid that if I let go, I’d lose him right then.

I’d gotten the full tour last night, or this morning rather, but seeing Takata’s home in the daylight only accentuated the clean lines, spacious rooms, and sparse but comfortable furnishings. It didn’t look much like my mom’s old house, but my mom didn’t look much like herself either. She was wearing trendier clothes and had a far more relaxed smile. Losing the emotional baggage in Cincinnati suited her.

The kitchen was bigger than mine, with rich wood and gleaming metals. It opened up to a lower living room, three sides of which were glass looking out onto what had to be a private beach since I hadn’t seen anyone on it yet. The ceilings were high, and the second story where the bedrooms were overlooked it. A piano took up one bright corner, and a small library the other. Between them, a TV was turned to the news, and as we entered, Takata muted it from behind the kitchen counter.