CHAPTER EIGHT
1856 Words
(Ava’s POV)
The morning came with the smell of pancakes and the sound of Ethan’s sister humming off-key in the kitchen.
Ava sat at the table, sipping coffee and trying to look calm, even though her body still buzzed from last night.
Ethan strolled in, hair tousled from sleep, wearing a plain t-shirt that shouldn’t have looked half as good as it did. He dropped into the chair across from her like he owned the world, smirk firmly in place.
“Sleep well?” he asked, far too casually.
Her grip tightened on her mug. “Perfectly.”
“Really?” His grin widened. “No nightmares? No vampire attacks?”
She nearly choked on her coffee. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”
“Not a chance, princess.”
The drive into the next town wasn’t long, but Ava’s nerves didn’t settle. Their midterm assignment was supposed to be “an immersive research project” basically, gathering material for a paper about small-town culture. She’d imagined dusty libraries and interviews with locals, not an overnight trip with Ethan Cole.
He seemed perfectly at ease, one hand on the wheel, tapping his fingers to the faint music. She, on the other hand, was hyper-aware of every glance he threw her way.
“So,” he said, voice smooth. “You gonna tell me what Maya whispered to you when we left yesterday?”
Her heart stopped. “What?”
He smirked. “Come on. I know her. She couldn’t let you leave without saying something dramatic.”
Ava crossed her arms. “It’s not important.”
“Which means it’s hilarious,” he countered. “Spill it.”
“No.”
“Fine.” His grin turned wicked. “I’ll guess.”
She groaned. “Please don’t.....”
“She told you I was secretly married?”
“No.”
“An undercover criminal?”
“No.”
His smirk sharpened. “A vampire?”
Her silence betrayed her.
His laugh was instant and loud. “Unbelievable.”
She slapped her forehead. “I hate you.”
“Oh, this is gold,” he said, eyes glittering with mischief. “I can’t believe you actually considered it.”
“I didn’t......”
“You did.” He leaned closer, grin devilish. “You looked at me last night like I was about to sink my teeth into you.”
Her face flamed. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re adorable when you’re flustered.”
By the time they reached the town, Ava was both exhausted and buzzing with energy. The place itself was quaint brick sidewalks, flower baskets hanging from lampposts, diners that smelled like nostalgia. Perfect for their project.
They spent the afternoon wandering, interviewing shop owners, snapping photos of faded murals. Ethan had a way of charming people effortless, natural that made Ava roll her eyes but secretly admire him.
At one point, she caught him crouched beside an old man outside the barbershop, genuinely listening, his expression soft in a way she’d never seen before. It startled her, that glimpse of something… gentler.
And of course, he caught her staring.
“What?” he asked later, as they walked toward the hotel.
“Nothing.”
“Liar,” he said, smirking.
The hotel was small, tucked on the corner of Main Street. Ava checked them in, juggling her bag and paperwork while Ethan leaned against the counter, looking infuriatingly unbothered.
The receptionist handed over the key card with a polite smile. “Room 203.”
Ava froze. “Wait one room?”
“Sorry, dear,” the receptionist said. “We’re fully booked this weekend. Festival’s in town. You’re lucky we had anything left.”
Ethan was grinning before she even turned to him.
“No,” she said immediately.
“Yes,” he countered, smug.
“I’ll sleep in the lobby.”
“Relax, princess. I don’t bite.”
Her brain betrayed her with Maya’s voice again. Yes, he does. Vampires always bite.
She nearly groaned out loud.
The room was small but cozy queen-sized bed, tiny desk, a single window overlooking the street. Too intimate. Too close.
Ava dumped her bag by the desk, muttering, “I’m taking the floor.”
Ethan flopped onto the bed, hands behind his head, looking entirely too comfortable. “Suit yourself. But it’s a big bed.”
“I’m not sharing.”
He smirked. “Didn’t think you’d cave that easy.”
She glared at him, grabbed a pillow, and dropped onto the carpet. But lying there, staring at the ceiling, she realized she was hyper-aware of his breathing, his presence.
It was unbearable.
And then his voice, low and amused: “You’re really going to sleep on the floor?”
“Yes.”
A pause. Then, softer: “You’ll freeze.”
“I’ll survive.”
But twenty minutes later, shivering under the thin hotel blanket, she hated to admit he was right.
A rustle of sheets, then his voice again. “Get up here, Ava.”
“No.”
“Stubborn.” A sigh. “Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
She curled tighter, determined. But her body betrayed her her teeth chattered, her shoulders tense.
And then, damn him, he threw half the blanket down to her.
She sat up, stunned. “What.....”
“Take it,” he said simply, eyes closed. “Don’t make me drag you up here.”
Her heart thudded. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Mm. Maybe.”
But she pulled the blanket over herself anyway, warmth seeping in, comfort blooming against her will.
And for the first time that night, she didn’t feel cold.
Lying there on the floor, listening to his breathing above her, Ava stared into the dark and hated herself for thinking the unthinkable:
That maybe, just maybe, Maya wasn’t entirely wrong.
Because Ethan Cole was dangerous.
Not because he was a vampire.
But because he was getting under her skin.
The blanket helped, but not much. The floor was still hard, the carpet scratchy, and every time she shifted, the springs in the bed creaked above her, reminding her exactly who she was stuck with.
“Are you seriously comfortable up there?” she muttered into the dark.
Ethan’s chuckle was low, lazy. “Very. Thanks for asking.”
She rolled her eyes even though he couldn’t see. “Of course you are.”
“You know,” he said after a pause, “this would be a lot easier if you just admitted I was right.”
“About what?”
“That the bed’s warmer.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re lying.”
She let out a groan. “Do you ever stop talking?”
“Not when you’re around,” he teased.
“Lucky me.”
“Very.”
Silence settled again, but it wasn’t peaceful. It was the kind of silence that buzzed, that made her brain replay the way his voice dropped when he teased her earlier, how close his grin had been in that tiny hotel room.
“Ethan,” she said finally, because the quiet was unbearable. “Why are you even like this?”
“Like what?”
“Cocky. Annoying. Always… ugh. You.”
She heard the sheets shift as he turned on his side. “Because it gets to you.”
Her stomach twisted. “It doesn’t.”
“You’re literally arguing with me at midnight. Seems like it does.”
She buried her face in the pillow, muffling a frustrated groan. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do.”
His laugh was soft this time. Not mocking, not sharp just… amused, almost fond. “You keep telling yourself that, princess.”
Minutes passed. She thought maybe he’d finally fallen asleep, but then his voice came again, quieter.
“You ever notice how quiet it gets in small towns at night?”
Ava blinked. That wasn’t the kind of thing she expected him to say.
“Uh… I guess?” she replied cautiously.
“No traffic. No city hum. Just… nothing. Kinda eerie.”
“Or peaceful,” she offered.
“Depends who you ask.”
She tilted her head, trying to picture him in the dark above her. “You don’t like quiet, do you?”
He didn’t answer right away. Then: “Not really.”
“Why?”
“Gives me too much time to think.”
Something in his tone made her chest ache. She opened her mouth, then closed it again. She wasn’t sure if he’d let her see that part of him whatever it was.
So she settled for, “Guess that explains why you never shut up.”
That earned her another laugh, but this one sounded softer too. “Maybe.”
She turned on her side, staring at the edge of the bed above her. “What are you thinking about now?”
“Right now?” He hesitated. “That if Maya’s right, and I’m a vampire… I picked the worst possible roommate. You’d be way too much trouble.”
Her eyes widened. “Excuse me?”
“You’d fight me off,” he said matter-of-fact, like he’d already played it out in his head. “Scratch, bite, swing your little fists.”
“I would,” she snapped, sitting up slightly.
“I know,” he said, chuckling. “That’s what makes it funny.”
She grabbed the pillow and hurled it at him. It smacked against the bed with a soft thud.
“Hey!” he laughed.
“Serves you right,” she muttered, lying back down.
A beat of silence, then the pillow landed gently on top of her.
Her jaw dropped. “You did not just throw that back at me.”
“Equal rights,” he said smugly.
“You’re infuriating.”
“And you’re adorable when you’re mad.”
Her face burned. She threw the pillow back harder this time. It bounced off the bed and hit the floor, where it stayed.
“Now you don’t have one,” he said with mock sadness.
She groaned, dragging the blanket tighter around herself. “I don’t need it.”
But a moment later, she felt the soft weight of the pillow being dropped gently onto her again.
She froze. “Why......”
“Because you’ll complain all night if you don’t have one,” he said, almost too casually.
For a second, her throat went tight. Not because of the teasing because of the gentleness buried underneath it.
“Thanks,” she said quietly, surprising herself.
“No problem,” he replied, softer this time.
The room grew quiet again, but it was different now. Not the heavy silence from before, not awkward. Just… easy.
She curled up under the blanket, holding the pillow close, her body finally relaxing despite the hard floor.
Her last thought before sleep claimed her was dangerous.
That maybe, just maybe, Ethan wasn’t only dangerous because he got under her skin.
Maybe he was dangerous because he made her feel safe.
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD