45

Veronica

Stefan and I walked back to the house in silence. He held my hand, his thumb making circles inside my palm. The air hung heavy around him, his mood dark. I wished he'd tell me what had happened between him and Stephen.

"Are you okay?" I finally asked before we went inside.

He turned to me and rubbed my arms, backing me against the wall. His expression looked as though he had a thousand things to say, but instead of saying any of them, he cradled my head with one hand and leaned down to kiss me full on the mouth, his lips soft against mine, the touch intimate and sensual. Different than his other kisses. Not erotic. Not at first. When he pulled back, his eyes almost gleamed.

I touched his face, and he flinched. He'd have a wicked bruise tomorrow.

"My intention when I started this, the whole time I planned it, I never thought about you. Not you as in flesh and blood and human. My brother is right to be worried. I keep telling you I won't hurt you, but I do, don't I?"

"Stefan—"