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Conversion (Conversion #1) Page 47
Author: S.C. Stephens

Early Monday morning, he rolled over in my bed and woke me with soft kisses on my shoulder, neck and cheek. With clear reluctance in his voice, he whispered, "I have to go get ready for work," in my ear. I smiled that he'd remembered to wake me before he left. I sleepily watched him find his clothes in the gray-on-gray, pre-dawn light of the room. Once dressed, he leaned over and gave me a final goodbye kiss. If he'd had the time, I would have pulled those clothes right off of him again. He didn't though, so with a small sigh, I ended our warm touch and whispered goodbye. He paused at my doorway and gave me a heart-stopping crooked grin.

God, I loved that man.

I couldn't fall back asleep after he left, so I got up early and clunked around my tiny, peaches and cream bedroom. This house had been my grandmother's house and this bedroom had been my mother's. Out of respect for my long dead grandma, I slept in what was technically the second bedroom, although they were both the same size.

Mom had had no desire to move back here after Grandma had passed. She really enjoyed sharing a two bedroom, single story home with Ashley, near the campus. But she hadn't had the heart to sell the home she'd grown up in. It was fully paid for anyway and a good investment. When I'd finished college, Mom had offered me a pretty spectacular rate on rent, since there was no way I'd just live here for free, mooching off of her, and I'd eagerly accepted the cute little home. I supposed if I ever finally moved in with Teren, Ashley would come live here, although the steep staircase was a challenge for her.

I left my simple, yet elegant, little room and walked across the hall to the main bathroom. My grandma had had a thing for lighthouses and the bathroom was done in a clearly nautical motif. We'd all found it much too cute to change, so we left it as a little homage to her. I turned on the water for my shower and when it was warm enough, I pushed aside the curtain depicting a cliff side with raging waters below it and a lone, stoic lighthouse atop it, and stepped inside. I sort of felt like that lighthouse, alone, and trying to be brave while torturous waves crashed below me, with only my one brightly shining lamp to light the darkness.

Okay, maybe the metaphor was a little dramatic, but I was feeling a little dramatic after our weekend. Teren had really scared the piss out of me, and fighting with him like that was something I never wished to do again. But I'd won...and now he was leaving. And even though I understood the necessity of it, I hated the reality. There was nothing I wanted more than for him to stay here in San Francisco with me, for us to move in together, and for him to get me all barefoot and pregnant. That was what I really wanted. Not him an hour away, with me visiting for booty calls...ugh.

I shampooed, rinsed and repeated my hair, and stepped from the shower clean, if not refreshed. I supposed Teren and I still needed to talk about when he would leave and when I could visit. His being so far away, would be a challenge in the whole baby making department. We'd talked before about ways to prolong creating a baby-freeze some of his stuff or something, but we'd decided that having his vampiric DNA around curious doctors, with labs running numerous sorts of tests, was just too great a risk of exposure, even for something this important. No, our way was the old-fashioned way, so "visits" were an inevitability. But I'd do it. I wasn't about to give up on our dream, because of a little problem like geography. It was only an hour anyway. I would drive an hour every night to be with him, baby or no baby.

I plugged my hairdryer into the socket below a lighthouse nightlight, and dried my tresses while my mind tumbled. Being alone was the hardest part. There was just no one to talk over my problems with. I suppose Alanna would listen to every word I had to say, with an open, silent heart and comforting, cool arms. But conversing with Alanna probably meant conversing with Halina, and while things between us weren't quite as strained, she wasn't exactly someone I wanted to confess fears with.

Tracey was definitely out. She'd never want to be in my line of sight again if she knew the truth about Teren. She'd probably never want to be in California again. She'd snatch up Hot Ben, and they'd go to Arizona or something. Somewhere far more sunny and vamp-deterrent, than here.

Churning over my options, I threw on a pencil skirt and a long-sleeved blouse; Teren's latest nibble had been on the crook of my arm, while said arm was wrapped around my back. Yeah, don't ask. I debated talking with Ashley. True, she did know Teren's secret...sort of. She knew he was a human-vampire mix. She knew he had fangs and occasionally liked to puncture my skin. She did not know he was dying.

Sitting on the edge of my bed, I slipped on my shoes and considered her reaction. She would probably take it better than I had. I was still a touch embarrassed over my emotional blowup the night Teren had reluctantly told me he had months to live. As I was wondering how to tell my sister, I realized just how difficult that must have been for him. I didn't know how Ashley would react, but I knew she'd love me no matter what. Our relationship had been so new back then that Teren would have had no clue if I was going to walk away or not. And I almost had. I could see now that he had been right in trying to shield me from the truth of his condition. As much as I hated to admit it...if he'd told me any earlier, I would have bolted. I had to love the man first, before I could accept the truths that came along with loving that man.

Finished dressing, I walked into the hallway and tossed a quick glance at the main bedroom that was now set up as a guest room. The bed still had Grandma's lacy quilt on top of it and the room still lightly smelled of roses, a smell that had seemed to permeate Grandma. Sometimes Ashley slept there, when she stayed over on nights she was too tired to go back to her place with Mom, but mostly the room was empty, the door closed. Heading downstairs, I carefully watched my high heels traverse the narrow steps, and wondered if my rose-smelling, lighthouse-loving grandma, would have accepted my situation. I smiled at the thought. She probably would have. Mom was constantly telling me that I was just like her.

Another Monday morning found me facing the exact same crowd of dreary worker bees who'd rather be redoing Sunday-going to a barbecue, drinking beers on a boat in the bay, and as one guy I passed in the halls was saying, enjoying an "afternoon delight." Everyone wanted to be gone, except for Clarice. She was waiting for me at my little square office, with a stack of papers in her hand. Her bun looked exceptionally tight this morning and her face looked exceptionally displeased. I discretely checked my watch, but I wasn't late. I had two minutes to spare.

"Here," she muttered, handing me the stack before I could even set my purse down. "I need all of these copied within the hour."

I looked at the six-inch stack in my hands and mentally sighed. Sometimes I thought I was crazy working here. I could be on a ranch, wiping cow poop off my boot. Right now, that sounded like so much more fun. "No problem, Clarice."

I didn't ask about her weekend and she didn't ask about mine. We both knew that neither one of us really cared. Just straight to work-all professionalism here.

That professionalism faded the minute Clarice waddled back to her desk and Tracey poked her head up at me. Her face was all romantic bliss, like she'd gone to sleep being lullabyed by the London Philharmonic Orchestra, and awoken in a sea of rose petals. It occurred to me, that I really had no idea how romantic Hot Ben was, and that might have indeed been her night. Although, I doubt he'd be able to get the actual London Philharmonic Orchestra. San Francisco High, maybe.

"Hey, Em, did you and Teren have a good time?" Before I could answer, she added, "God, that was great. I love camping." Her smile got even wider and she bit her lip. "I can't wait to go again."

I inwardly laughed at her delighted face. I knew exactly what part she was thinking about. I knew she'd get over that rock thing. Not entirely enjoying my memories of the past few days, I smiled my best, fake smile. "Yeah, we had a great time, Trace. We're in next time, for sure."

She giggled, then ducked back down to her office. I'm pretty sure she'd be drawing hearts around Ben's name today. For someone who'd resisted falling, once she had, she fell hard. A sudden wave of sadness hit me, as I thought that that might have been our last camping trip with Ben and Tracey. It was getting late in the season to go, and Teren's birthday was in a couple of months. By next spring, he'd be a bloodsucking corpse. How exactly would we explain him not eating for days at a time? And what would he eat? Well, at least Tracey and I wouldn't have to worry about bears anymore...

The rest of my work day trudged by with a slowness that matched my moody heart. By a quarter to five, I decided that I needed to speak to another human being about this, or the stress was going to eat a hole through my stomach. I rang my sister and asked her to come over to my place...without Mom. She understood that that meant I wanted to talk about Teren and his "condition". Solemnly, she said she would.

Tracey pouted at me when I told her I wouldn't be in kickboxing tonight, and Teren asked me if everything was okay when I told him I wasn't coming over later. I assured him I was just meeting with my sister. With a sad, I'll miss you sigh, he told me to tell her hello and that he'd see her tomorrow night at dinner with my family. After telling him I loved him, I hopped into my yellow bug and drove home to wait for Ashley to come over. I still wasn't entirely sure what to say, or entirely sure how she'd take it.

About an hour later, I heard a light knock on the door and let Ashley in. She smiled at me through her disfigured lips and I hugged her. She had curled the long, brown locks on the side of her head that still had hair, and it attractively framed her face. I touched a springy strand. "You're beautiful," I told her.

"Thank you." She smiled politely as she glanced over my full head of wavy hair.

As it sometimes did when I was around her, a tidal wave of guilt assaulted me. It wasn't as if I could have done anything for her the night of the fire, it had started in her room and Dad had barely gotten her out, but I'd played the "what if" game in my head until my cheeks were drenched in tears. I tried to fight back that feeling, as I led her to the living room. Ashley didn't like pity, and she chose to live without regrets. I struggled daily to be the woman my sister was.

We sat on my two-person sofa, and I stared at the green walls of my living room. I'd painted the room last year in a tranquil shade of sage green that I'd picked out. It was only when the room was firmly coated in three layers of that relaxing green, that I'd noticed that the color on the walls didn't quite match the version in my head. It was more of an "I'm about to be sick" green. I hated painting though, and had refused to redo it, so I'd brought in cream curtains and a really beautiful antique coffee table, to try and distract from the walls. That queasy green color was sort of matching my insides right now, and I was a little irritated with my painting laziness.

"Are you okay, Emma? You look a little ill?" My sister put a hand on my leg and I looked back at her and tried to smile. I wasn't sure if I succeeded. Her next comment made me think I hadn't. "Did you and Teren break up again?" Her eyes looked really disappointed at that prospect, which made me believe that she might handle this better than I thought.

I shook my head. "No, we're fine. He says hi, and he's looking forward to seeing you and Mom tomorrow."

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S.C. Stephens's Novels
» Untamed (Thoughtless #4)
» Thoughtful (Thoughtless #1.5)
» Effortless (Thoughtless #2)
» Thoughtless (Thoughtless #1)
» Collision Course
» Reckless (Thoughtless #3)
» 'Til Death (Conversion #3)
» Bloodlines (Conversion #2)
» Conversion (Conversion #1)