by Megan Duncan
“How about some music?” she asked, moving her hand to the power button of the stereo. She scanned through the stations a few times before stopping on one of the local indie stations that only played music from underground artists a few nights a week, the rest of the time they aired whatever was on the local television.
The acoustic whine of a guitar floated through the speakers as we pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main road. It was a short drive to the restaurant, since it was only on the other side of the lake that was just a few miles away from Shady Willows. Maybe I should have chosen a place further away so we would have had the chance to spend more time together?
“It’s a beautiful night,” she commented, staring out the window as the lake came into view.
“It is,” I agreed. “Are you excited about dinner?” I asked, taking a chance. I wanted to know how she felt, and besides the night she’d asked me not to leave she hadn’t expressed any other feelings. All our conversations were strictly plutonic; never getting into past relationships or things of that nature.
“I am.” She turned to smile at me, tightly grasping the small purse in her lap. I didn’t make her uncomfortable did I? We’d been talking for weeks, but maybe she found it awkward that I’d asked her out? Maybe she only said yes because she was afraid of hurting my feelings if she had said no. Especially after how ridiculous I had acted.
“Good,” I replied awkwardly, not sure if I believed her. We’d always fallen easily into conversation before, but all of a sudden it was different. I didn’t know what to say to her, whether or not I should sit next to her or across from her at dinner, or…even more terrifying and tantalizing; kissing her at the end of the night.
“Yeah, I can’t remember the last time I went out to dinner.”
“Really?”
“Mhm. You seem surprised,” she commented, turning her attention to several boats that were floating in the middle of the lake.
“I am. I would have thought a girl like you would be going out all the time.” I followed the lake road around the bend of the water until the docks came into view. The restaurant was right alongside them.
“A girl like me?” she asked, turning to face me. There was something in her tone that revealed she hadn’t quite liked my choice of words.
“You know…beautiful.” My heart raced as the last word spilled out of me.
“You think I’m beautiful?” Shock mingled with the rosy blush of her cheeks. Certainly she knew how stunning she was, and she had to know I felt that way. It took everything I had to keep from staring at her.
I smirked at her, as the SUV crawled its way through the boatyard parking lot. No, there was no way she couldn’t know how perfect she was.
“Autumn,” I said her name in a whisper, my blood pumping and my lustful nature commanding control, “you know I think you’re beautiful.”
Putting the car in park after finding an open space, I let it idle as we sat in silence; the radio playing quietly in the background. I scanned the full parking lot, grateful that I had the sense to call ahead and make a reservation. Apparently everyone in town had thought to eat at the same restaurant.
“Ready to eat?” I blurted out, anxious to change the subject. It was hard enough for me to comprehend my unexpected and intense feelings for her, but admitting them out loud was a totally different ball game.
“Absolutely!” she answered cheerfully. Was she really that hungry, or just glad I changed the subject?
After turning off the engine I rushed out of the SUV and rounded the front to the passenger door. I opened it, offering my hand to help her out. I’d been worrying on the drive over whether or not I should hold her hand, and she solved that debate for me. As we walked carefully through the frozen parking lot, Autumn latched onto my arm. Maybe she was cold, or maybe it was just for balance, but I enjoyed it either way. The sweet smell of her delicate perfume filled the air around us, making it extremely difficult to not kiss her passionately or latch onto her neck; I couldn’t decide which. Although I didn’t drink live anymore I still had the urge, especially when I desired someone as much as I did Autumn. Just another reason I should stay away from her.
Classical music tinkled in the air as we entered the restaurant, trumped only by the chatter of happy couples laughing and talking. The hostess seated us at the table I had requested, handing us menus before she disappeared toward the front of the restaurant. I’d chosen a private booth with a lake view. The table was covered in soft, white linen, with red and white roses creating the centerpiece among flickering candles. The dim lighting and soft music made me suddenly realize how romantic this restaurant was.
My body pulsed as I watched Autumn unravel her scarf before pulling her jacket off to reveal bare shoulders. Her hair danced across her naked skin and I gulped loud enough for the entire restaurant to hear. Why was I so nervous; wasn’t this everything I had wanted it to be? As much I was trying to convince myself I should stay away from her, that I wasn’t good, I knew this night was everything I had dreamed. I felt guilty, like I had stolen cookies from the cookie jar. I was the lion who had lured the lamb, and as wrong as it felt, I knew I wouldn’t be able to say no to myself forever. I wouldn’t be able to say no to her.
She told me about her day as we browsed the menu; joking about how much time she’d taken getting ready. I was too embarrassed to admit I had as much trouble as she. I decided on a lobster bisque; thinking that a liquid would be easier on my stomach. Autumn gave her order to the waiter, almond crusted halibut, and I requested a bottle of red wine. She toyed with her empty wine glass as we talked about everything other than what was on both our minds. We were finally somewhere where we didn’t have to worry about anyone judging us, and we were both too nervous to get the conversation rolling in the direction I was hoping we both wanted it to go.
When the waiter dropped off our bottle of wine and a basket of crusty bread, I poured our glasses; filling mine to the top and Autumn’s half way. She gave me an odd look, but didn’t say anything.
“Shall we toast?” I asked, lifting my glass.
“Sure, what should we toast to?” She brought her glass up to mine.
“Uh…” Crap, I hadn’t thought that far ahead.
“How about to new friends?”
Friends?! I clenched my free hand into a fist under the table, feeling the sting of her words with precision. I knew I wanted to be whatever I could be to her, but deep down inside I believed I could be more than that.
“To new friends!” I toasted her, with the best fake happiness I could muster. When would I stop being a fool? I felt like I had no control over my emotions anymore. I would tell myself one thing, and do something completely different.
“So, tell me about yourself, William. You know so much about me, but I feel like you’re still so mysterious,” she said, playfully.
I watched the candlelight dance across her curious expression before I answered. “What would you like to know?”
“I want to know everything,” she answered, boldly.
“Everything, eh?” I took a long sip of my wine to keep from giving away how amused I was. She most definitely didn’t want to know everything.
“Yeah, that okay with you?” she took on a sarcastic tone that I’d never heard her use before. I’d thought she was perfect before, but when she was a smartass it made her even more attractive.
I nodded. It only made it harder not to want her, knowing she wanted to learn everything about me. Of course, I couldn’t tell her everything, but I would tell her everything I could.
“Well, I have a cat named Tom. He’s a tomcat that I found when I first moved here,” I said, deciding to start off with the most basic information. I was pretty sure I had mentioned Tom before, but I’d likely only thought about it and changed the focus of our conversation back to her like I always did.
“A cat? Cool,” she smiled, a laugh playing on the edge of her lips. “What does your place look like?” She popped a small piec
e of bread into her mouth and looked at me expectantly.
“I’ve got an apartment above a little Italian restaurant. And…uh…I’ve got a fireplace, but my favorite part is that I have two big bookshelves.” I found that the words came easily, and my nervousness began to melt away.
“Oh, do you like to read?”
“I love to read. I’d say I have a few hundred books.” I swallowed hard. Did I just give away what a nerd I was?
“What’s your favorite book?”
“Wow…um…there are too many. I could no sooner choose a favorite star in the heavens.”
“I think my favorite is Where the Red Fern Grows. Have you read it?”
“I have not,” I answered, daring to scoot closer to her, pretending I was adjusting my seat.
“Oh, you’ve got to read it! I cry every time. I’ll give you my copy,” she said, excitedly.
“You don’t have to give it to me. I can just borrow it. I’m sure you’ll want it back.” If she was as attached to books as I was it would be hard for her to give up her favorite one. I was surprised to hear her offer it to me.
“Right, right.” She broke away from my gaze and glanced around for the waiter. They were on their way with our food so she moved her bread to the side and made room for her giant plate of halibut, surrounded by grilled asparagus glistening with a buttery sauce and speckled with freshly chopped parsley and garlic. She sniffed at the wafting steam, and smiled pleasantly as the waiter set my bowl of cheesy lobster bisque in front of me.
I stirred my soup, pretending to wait for it to cool while I watched Autumn enjoying her meal. She sighed in happiness at her first bite, enjoying it as if it were the best thing she’d ever eaten. I almost envied her, wishing I could enjoy a meal as she did…well, I could enjoy a meal but it wasn’t entirely the same. When a vampire ate they couldn’t hold a conversation with their dinner partner, or watch their date smile when every bite pleased their palate. I shook away the images of what it was really like when a vampire truly had a meal. I ignored the memories of growling, the crying and the screaming; even the moaning.
“So, what else do you want to know about me?” I asked to distract myself. I brought a spoonful of soup to my mouth, swallowing hard. It tasted fine, but there was no enjoyment in it for me.
“Umm…,” she cut off a piece of asparagus and popped it into her mouth while she contemplated her next question. “That night we first met…”
“Listen, I’m sorry I yelled at you about staying in Hazel’s room.” I leaned toward her ready to plead my case. I’d apologized before but we never really spoke about it.
“No, no, no, no that’s not when we first met,” she corrected me. “I meant the night you were in my room.”
“Oh.”
“I know you’ve told me you thought I was a resident and were just checking on me, but you never explained why you freaked out.”
“I didn’t freak out,” I answered with a smile trying to play it cool and not panic. She’d never mentioned it before and I hoped she hadn’t noticed, or thought she’d imagined whatever it was she saw since it was dark. “You just startled me.”
She giggled into her wine at my answer. “Odd reaction for being startled, don’t you think?” I shrugged, trying to look innocent. If I didn’t believe my story neither would she. “I was just thinking you ran out of the room pretty fast.”
“Uh…yeah, I’m a fast runner. I ran track in college,” I responded speedily, making it up as I went along.
“Really? What college?”
“Brown.” I wasn’t entirely lying, I had been to the university but I never attended classes there.
“That’s a really good school.” She poked her fork into the fish and brought it to her mouth, closing her eyes as she savored the bite. “Why were you going to leave Denton?” she asked, without looking at me. Her eyes dropped to her wine glass as she fiddled with the stem.
I hadn’t meant to drop my spoon, but it clattered loudly against the porcelain bowl; splashing bisque on the pristine tablecloth. I had to think up a reason quick, any hesitation would reveal that I was lying.
“I just felt like I was ready to move on.” That felt like the closest thing to the truth without revealing anything I didn’t want her to know. In truth, I wanted to leave because I hadn’t found what I was looking for, I was sick of living so close to Ming and the death of Hazel had been hard on me. She was the first being human or vampire that I had ever felt connected to, but of course that last part wasn’t true anymore. I felt like my whole life had led up to the moment I met Autumn.
“Why is that? Do you not like it here?” Finally she dared to look at me again. I searched within her eyes trying to read her mind, but failed miserably. Something told me she wanted me to open up to her; to reveal my every secret but how could I? Then again, how could I not? If I believed every moment of my entire life had led to this night with her then I had to hold nothing back. I had to let her know how I felt or I may never get this chance again.
I decided that I would still hide what I was, but my heart would be hers if she so wanted it. “I believe I’m starting to like it here just fine.” I gave her a crooked grin, as my eyes drank in her every feature with passionate intensity before taking in a long mouthful of wine.
I almost choked on it when I felt the pace of her heart begin to beat as rapidly as a hummingbird. She placed a hand to her chest, giving me an embarrassed look, before reaching for her glass of water. Did I really make her that nervous? If I did, then maybe I hadn’t imagined she had real feelings for me. Perhaps she felt the same powerful attraction and immediate connection that I did.
“Everything okay?” I asked, watching her gulp down her ice water greedily. She nodded, gasping for breath. I waived the waiter over to refill her glass and requested the desert menu.
“Thanks.” Her cheeks began to blush as she took a small sip of her newly filled glass. Feeling the slowing of her heartbeat, I decided to focus on my soup and not throw too much of my feelings on her all at once.
“If you’d like to go, it’s alright with me.” I didn’t want to overload her and if taking things slow was more her speed then that was fine with me.
“No, I want to stay,” she answered quickly, placing a hand on mine. I squeezed her hand in response to comfort her, and also out of sheer need to touch her. This time, I didn’t pull away. I let our hands meet for as long as she wanted them to. It wasn’t until she started eating again that she finally pulled away.
The waiter left the desert menu at the table, and I sipped absentmindedly at my soup while we talked more. She discussed more about her paintings and how she couldn’t seem to master a new brush technique, blaming it on her inferior brushes. We went back and forth discussing books we’d read, and before I knew it she’d finished her meal. I handed her the desert menu, telling her chose whatever her heart desired.
The joy on her face was priceless as she scanned the menu over and over before finally settling on a slice of cheesecake, and some bananas foster.
“So, you live above an Italian restaurant and you don’t eat there every day?” she asked with a mouth full of whipped cream.
“No,” I answered, with a chuckle. “I actually don’t care much for Italian food.” I was roaring with laughter inside, but I couldn’t admit why. There was a reason I didn’t like Italian food, and that reason was named Juliana. When I lived in Italy she was a frequent visitor to one of the live feeding establishments. She had quite the appetite for onions, and sadly I tasted it too.
“Then what is your favorite?”
“Hmm…I’m not sure I have one,” I answered, doing my best to look like I was giving it thought when, in fact, I knew very well what my favorite food was. “I guess you could say I’m a meat and potatoes kind of guy.” I laughed at my humor; it was the closest thing to the truth that I could come up with.
“I can see that,” she replied. “You’ve definitely got the carnivore vibe.”
“Carn
ivore vibe?”
“Don’t worry, most guys are like that,” she laughed, clearly enjoying how confused she was making me. “Even my dad. He likes his steak practically mooing.” She stuck her tongue out with disgust.
“Mooing, eh?” I couldn’t admit that I liked my steak the same way, or rather…skip the steak all together; I’d drink straight from the cow.
“Tell me about your parents,” I asked, thinking that since she brought up her father the subject was safe to discuss.
“What about them?” her tone suddenly changed.
“Well, don’t you miss them?” I knew there was something she wasn’t telling me. Maybe they’d had a falling out. I didn’t want to push her, but maybe talking about it would help. Surely they couldn’t be that bad.
“Of course not. Why do you think I haven’t gone back?” She dipped her fork into the cheesecake, and brought the first bite to her lips. Those lips made electricity ignite inside me that made me completely forget my train of thought.
“Do you still talk to your parents?”
“No, uh, they passed away a long time ago.” Many years ago, more than I could count, I had wondered about them. Who they were; what they were like, but when I finally worked up the nerve to try and search them out they’d been long since dead. I could have dug deeper; searching for distant relatives or any kind of connection but what was the point? I’d seen vampires do that very thing and it always ended in disaster. I might not remember anything of my life, or any emotions I had for any of the people in it but I did feel I owed them that much. I owed them enough to stay away. Far, far away.
“I’m sorry,” she replied sweetly with sincerity.
“It’s okay.” I smiled, trying to convey I wasn’t still hurt by their passing. That life was nothing more than a long forgotten dream.
“How’s the dessert?” I asked, trying to change the subject to a lighter note.
She looked down at her plate, and then back at me with a newly blossomed blush forming on her cheeks. “Oh, my gosh! I’m so sorry. I ate the whole thing!”
