Page 102 of In Darkness We Claim

My voice is barely above a whisper when I say, “He might not hurt me.”

I’m not sure if I’m trying to make Wren believe it or myself. She obviously can hear the pain in my voice, as her rigid, on-the-defensive posture relaxes, and she looks at me with something far too like pity.

“He might not,” she agrees as she takes hold of my hand, squeezing it almost condescendingly, which makes it clear she doesn’t believe what she’s saying.

I’m unable to stop the words from tumbling out, as my mouth moves quicker than my brain. “I don’t know how to stop myself from liking him.”

Wren squeezes my hand again, a sad smile on her face as she struggles to respond to my, quite frankly, embarrassing confession. “You have to see this the way he does—just sex.”

She says it like it’s the easiest thing in the world to do, and maybe for Lawson it is, but not for me. I don’t know how to separate things. When we have sex, and he brings out this new side of me, making me feel seen and beautiful in a way I never have before, it’s almost impossible not to develop feelings from that.

Now I know why he didn’t want to kiss me, why he sees it as too intimate. When we kissed, it was like the last hurdle shattered around us, giving him an all-access pass to my heart, and I just have to trust he won’t break it, even though I’m almost certain he won’t have a choice.

I nod at my friend and tell her what she wants to hear, even if I don’t believe a word. “I will do that. I’ll see it as just sex.”

Her gaze sharpens, her doubt palpable, but thankfully, a knock at the door cuts off her unspoken accusation. A wave of relief washes over me, knowing the difficult conversation is over, that I was spared the struggle of finding the perfect words.

Wren rushes over to answer the door, straightening out her dress as she goes, and I glimpse the slight flush covering her cheeks. She pulls the door open, and I rush into the bathroom, not quite ready for Lawson to see me yet. I need to gather myself after that shaky conversation.

I’m close enough to hear the conversation happening at the front door. “Well, if you’re the Devil that’s running Hell, I’d like to buy a one-way pass, little fighter,” Bram growls, and Wren giggles like a schoolgirl.

“You’re going to Hell either way,” Lawson adds in his usual blunt tone.

“I expect you both will be,” Wren replies.

Footsteps echo as the guys enter the room; the door closing behind them. “Where’s Harper?” Lawson asks.

There’s a pause, and I can only assume Wren is looking for me. “She was here a second ago. She must be in the bathroom.”

Footsteps start up again, before what sounds like a bit of a scuffle. “You can’t go in and pull her out of the bathroom. Give her a minute,” Bram snaps, no doubt pulling Lawson back from storming in here.

“She’s probably hiding,” Lawson tells him, surprising me with how well he knows me. Then he projects his voice loud enough for me to hear. “Harper, get out here.”

“Bossy arsehole,” Wren chunters as Bram laughs.

I take a deep breath, hoping it will settle my nerves, but after the fifth one, I’m no calmer. Knowing I can’t hide in here all night, I check my appearance one last time in the bathroom mirror, and once I’m certain everything looks how I wanted, I slowly open the door.

Lawson is waiting for me on the other side, so close to the door I can barely see the rest of the bedroom, but once my eyes meet his, it’s like everything falls away and we’re the only ones left standing. We’re trapped in our own bubble, just the two of us staring at each other, the tension between us getting thicker with every silent second that passes.

Lawson is dressed more casually than you’d expect for a Halloween party. He’s wearing his usual black jeans, biker boots, and a tight black T-shirt that shows off his muscles. The only hint of a costume at all is the fake blood dripping from the corner of his lips.

I’m a little sad to see he’s without his usual backwards baseball cap, which does stupid things to the butterflies in my stomach. But his dark, unruly hair, that is starting to curl more at the end from how long its gotten, gives him a sexy just-fucked look that makes me want to run my fingers through it even more.

“What are you supposed to be?” I ask, though I think I already know.

He pulls his hand out of his pocket and lifts it to his mouth, and when he drops it, he gives me a deadly-looking smile that shows off the fake fangs he just slipped over his teeth. “I’m a very dangerous vampire.”

I can’t help but smile, as the fake fangs make him sound like he has a lisp, and it’s incredibly endearing. It’s not the greatest costume, but it’s still more than I expected from him.

Lawson is quick to pull the fangs out, not once taking his eyes off me as he does. His gaze, hot as the sun, scorches my skin as it sweeps over me, cataloging every curve with an intense, unwavering focus.

Lawson steps closer, and I gasp, a helpless feeling washing over me, as if I’m prey caught by a predator with no escape. He licks his lower lip, and my eyes are drawn to the movement, my core heating as I remember the feel of his tongue on my body.

As he reaches out and grabs a stray curl hanging over my face, I hold my breath, the tension between us building as he gently tucks it behind my ear, taking another step closer as he does.

He’s so close that the warmth radiating from his body is like a palpable heat brushing against my skin. The air is thick with Lawson’s distinct, intoxicating scent, and the intensity of the moment makes my head swim.

“You are a fucking gorgeous angel,” he whispers, stroking his finger along the fluffy edge of my halo. “I can’t wait to corrupt you.”