Saved at Sunrise

and yet interested.
    Once again she shared his feeling, the puzzled one, that is. “I don’t know,” she seethed.
     But then instantly the answer dawned on her. He’d saved her from looking pathetic,
     from looking like a heartbroken ex-girlfriend.
    “You are a real piece of work, Della Tsang.” He reached out as if to brush a strand
     of hair from her cheek.
    She didn’t know if that was a compliment or an insult, but she slapped his hand just
     in case.
    He laughed. “It really wasn’t bad for a first kiss, you know. Usually they’re kind
     of awkward. But that … that wasn’t awkward. It was hot.”
    She thought about the kiss, the warmth of his mouth, the feel of his tongue. How he
     had tasted. “I’m glad you liked it, because it was your last,” she snapped.
    She turned to fly off. Her feet weren’t all the way off the ground when she heard
     his reply.
    “We’ll have to see about that.”
    She gritted her teeth, continued toward the cabin, and fought the fear that if she
     wasn’t really careful, he might be right.
    And that would be wrong.
    Wouldn’t it?
    *   *   *
    Three thirty couldn’t have come any slower. The new sheet, pillowcase, blanket, and
     Lysol helped, but she kept waking up every few minutes. With the cabin out in the
     woods, the only noises were a few animals. It should have been a fine place to get
     a good night’s sleep. However, being a vampire and basically nocturnal, she never
     slept well at night.
    Last night she’d blamed most of the tossing and turning on the thought of bedbugs.
     Funny how the idea of bedbugs kept shifting to Steve’s kiss. Then Steve’s kiss led
     her to think about her mixed-up, crazy feelings about Lee.
    Was she over him? If so, why did it still hurt? But if she still loved him, why wasn’t
     she jealous of Mei? Then Della’s thoughts went to her mom and dad and sister playing
     board games without her. For some reason thinking about Lee and her parents helped
     block out the thoughts of the kiss.
    Still in bed and staring at the stained ceiling, Della heard water running, which
     meant Steve was taking a shower. Before she’d gone to bed she’d given the shower a
     good spray of Lysol, and took a quick stand beneath the spewing water herself.
    When she’d left the shower, Steve had been sitting on the sofa, staring at the bathroom
     door. Staring as if he hoped she’d be wearing something sexy.
    Poor guy had been disappointed. Or she had thought he’d been for about two seconds,
     until his gaze had lowered and then traveled up again as a slow sexy grin appeared
     in his eyes.
    “You were right,” he’d said. “And you were wrong.”
    She liked the part about being right, but…? “Wrong about what?”
    That seductive smile shifted to his lips as his gaze lowered again, and stopped on
     her bare feet. “Right that I have a foot fetish. Wrong about me never seeing your
     naked feet.”
    She used those naked feet to run off to the bedroom. The second after she slammed
     the door, he’d called out that they needed to talk about the mission. She called back
     that they could do it in the morning. Then she’d dropped into bed.
    Even five hours later, remembering the way he’d looked at her—at her feet for God’s
     sake—made her feel all fluttery inside. Now, as the sound of water from the shower
     filled her head, so did images. Her mind went to him standing under a steamy spray
     of water. And she had the oddest desire to see his naked feet. And other things.
    She groaned and pressed her palms into her eyes. Why couldn’t he be ugly?
    Taking a deep breath of resolve, she told herself to get over it. Besides, today was
     a new day. Slipping out of bed, she brushed her hair, and adjusted her bra. Feeling
     a tiny bit more in control, she went into the living room to wait her turn in the
     bathroom. She needed to brush her teeth, and they had to go over the plans for their
     mission. Then they needed to go do what they had to do. Catch themselves some bad
     vampires.
    She didn’t have time to think about how hot Steve was, or how his kiss had melted
     her insides like butter on a steaming ear of corn. It was time to think about kicking
     rogue vampire butt, not Steve’s cute butt.
    Drumming her fingers on the top of her knees, she saw the file they had to go over
     with their instructions sitting on the sofa. She really didn’t need to review it.
     She’d read it a dozen times and memorized it. Because vamps