Forks

by A.E. Davis

fifteen

  When I came back downstairs, Viktor was sitting forward on the couch, his arms braced on his thighs.

  “Did I miss anything?” I asked and sat down on the couch.

  “Yeah.” He gave me a knowing smile and in spite of the irritation, I felt earlier, my heart still went pitter-patter.

  “They are planning out their happily ever after,” he said and looked at me intently, his expression unreadable. “I’m afraid it’s not going to work out too well though, especially for her.”

  I shivered and tried to laugh off the uneasy feeling that passed over me. “Yeah, I think you may be right.” He didn’t smile like I thought he would, instead he turned back toward the television and settled back into the cushions. This room wasn’t overly bright but with the rain, it made it even gloomier than normal. Usually I turned on all the lamps when I was in this room, but since we were watching a movie, I didn’t. Not that it mattered, I was having a hard time concentrating on the movie anyway. My eyes kept getting drawn back to his beautiful profile. With the exception of the two small scars on his face, his skin was flawless. His lashes were long, casting shadows on his high cheekbones. He was pale though—everyone in this town was, including me, now. I used to have a nice golden tan from my stint at the beach but not now. The lack of sun made me just a pale as everyone else. Except I looked sallow in comparison and they looked like porcelain dolls, especially the Sparklers. I wasn’t sure if that was just makeup though, that made their skin so flawless. If it was, I was getting some. Maybe Glinda would know. But then again I wasn’t sure if I even wanted to talk to Glinda after last night. Looking at Viktor now… it was hard to believe he and Vincent were even brothers.

  “Are planning on watching the movie?” he asked without turning.

  Color bloomed to my cheeks. “I am watching.”

  He turned then and my stomach swirled.

  “You’re watching something,” he said, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

  I threw a pillow at him.

  He grabbed it so fast his hand was a blur.

  I blinked stupidly.

  “Quick reflexes,” he said and stuffed the pillow behind his back with a smug smile of satisfaction.

  I wanted to hit him with another pillow. “I doubt it,” I said. “More like dumb luck,” I muttered.

  His eyes were on me; I could feel it.

  “What did you say?” I could hear the edge in his voice. Like he couldn’t believe someone dared speak to him in such a way.

  I had an urge to laugh, but somehow, I kept it together and didn’t. “What?” I turned and gave him a bored look.

  His expression was priceless.

  Ha! Take that …I wanted to taunt him, to pay him back for being snarky earlier.

  After my initial moment of bravado though, I think my snarkiness may have backfired on me. The conversation squelched to a halt. Silence ensued and we sat there staring at the television. I didn’t even know what was going on in the movie.

  His arm stretched out across the back of the couch and if I moved just an inch, his hand would touch me. I readjusted, suddenly wishing I could get just a bit closer. He smelled really good. I rubbed my arms.

  “You cold?” he asked.

  “Yeah a bit,” I lied baldly.

  “C’mere,” he said, his voice sounding soft—velvety—sexy. Shivers slid over me but it had nothing to do with being cold. I scooted forward. He leaned up, pulled an afghan from behind his back, and tossed it at me.

  It hit me in the face. Oh. My. God!

  “Gee, thanks.” I balled it up and held it in my lap.

  His lips twisted upward and his eyes flashed—I could see payback written all over his face.

  I purposefully ignored him and pressed my body back into the cushions, throwing the afghan over my lap. I was closer though. We weren’t touching or anything, but I was in arms reach now. I felt my hair lift and looked over at him.

  “You warm enough?” his breath whispered across me.

  I shivered again.

  “Mmm, not really,” I lied again. I was pathetic.

  He moved closer and wrapped his arm over my shoulder pulling me toward him. He didn’t feel warm though, he was cold. I immediately felt bad. “Here, you want to share?” I lifted the blanket.

  “Why?” He gave me a curious look.

  “You feel cold,” I said.

  “I’m not…” he started and then stopped. A slow grin spread over his face. “Sure, we can share if you really want.” He lifted his brow.

  “Hey, I’m just being nice,” I defended.

  “Of course you are,” he said his tone placating.

  I hit him in the stomach, playing, but my fingers crumbled on impact. “Ow,” I complained, holding my aching fingers.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “You got rocks under your shirt?” I laughed.

  “No,” he said, but his smile grew. “Just fit.”

  “I daresay.” It was impossible not to smile back at him. His face was so close I could see the small scar near his perfect lips. I wanted to touch it…fine that was a lie. I wanted to kiss him and well…touch it too, just with my mouth. I squirmed in my seat, suddenly feeling so many mixed emotions. He was so…

  His lips tilted up at the corners and his fingers twisted in my hair, pulling me closer… his mouth inched forward and I was sure I was about to get the best kiss of my life…

  He swore under his breath and let go, leaning back. “You need to get that?”

  Not registering what he was saying, I sat there completely mesmerized.

  “Amber…”

  I shook my head. “What?”

  “Don’t you need to get the door?”

  “I don’t hear anything.” My head slowly drifted back from lala land.

  “You will.” He rubbed his forehead.

  Confused, I turned and looked behind me at the door. A minute later, I heard the distinct sound of someone knocking. I spun back around and gawked at him. “How’d you hear that?”

  “I didn’t,” he said and pointed out the window. Ken’s squad car was very visible out the window. He shrugged, a small smile tugged on the corners of his lips.

  I cut him a sideways look. “Right….” I disentangled myself from the blanket and stood. I wasn’t sure how he could have seen Ken, since his back was to the window. “I should…um… yeah, get that.” I pulled my hair up, a nervous habit I had and wrapped it into a loose bun on the top of my head, walking to the door.