Because the Night (The Night Songs Collection) by Kristen Strassel Read Free Book Online

the coolness radiating from his body. Now, instead of craving his touch, I dreaded it. I picked a spot as far to the other side of the couch as I could and perched myself on the edge of the cushion stiffly. I folded my hands in my lap. I couldn’t look at him.
    “I’d say I don’t bite,” he grinned. “I won’t bite you.” His tone had softened.
    I scooted back on the cushion, but I didn’t move closer to him and I certainly didn’t relax. I wasn’t sure if that was supposed to be funny or terrifying.
    “How did you know find me?” The answer scared me.
    He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his thighs. “I can sense you. I didn’t know what it was until I saw you. You smell like the ocean.”
    “Are you saying I smell like low tide? Eeww.”
    Tristan burst out laughing. “No! It’s like fresh air. Sunshine. You know that first time you step on the beach for the summer and just for that moment, everything is right in the world? God, I miss that.” He closed his eyes, as if he was trying to capture the moment in his mind.
    I knew exactly what he meant. I couldn’t imagine never being able to go to the beach again, not being able to feel the sand between my toes, feel the cool crash of the waves against my legs, or hear the gulls play along the shore, or taste the salty air. I couldn’t imagine never being able to feel the sun shine against my face again. As much as I wanted to stay here, I couldn’t imagine never being able to go home again. My heart ached for him.
    I didn’t know what to say. He watched me and waited for my answer. I mourned for him, even though he sat right in front of me. Tears welled up in my eyes.
    “How did you like the show?” He moved a bit closer, breaking the awkward silence he’d created.
    It took a minute for me to compose myself and collect my thoughts. “I liked it a lot. It wasn’t like the TV show at all.”
    “What don’t you like about the TV show?” He seemed genuinely surprised that could even be a possibility.
    “Well,” this was kind of awkward. “The concert was a lot more artistic and the TV show is more, I don’t know, about the partying, I guess.”
    “We’re just having a good time.”
    “I noticed.”
    “Don’t you like having a good time?” He slid closer, reaching out to wrap a lock of my hair around his finger.
    I met his gaze, trying my hardest to ignore the fact his hand was in my hair. “I guess my idea of fun is just different.”
    “Fair enough.” He put his hand back on his knee.
    Tristan had no intention of apologizing for what he was or what he did. But I could still ask him the million dollar question. “So that girl, Chantalle, is she —”
    He cut me off. “Obnoxious? God yes.”
    “What?”
    “She’s obnoxious. I can’t stand her.”
    “She’s not your girlfriend?!” I couldn’t have understood him correctly. This was way too good to be true. Although if it wasn’t her, there must be someone else. Tristan would never be alone. I wasn’t going to get my hopes up.
    And it wasn’t like I lived here or anything. Or hadn’t met someone to spend time with while I was here. I should be running away screaming right now. But even after everything that had happened, this was still Tristan sitting with me.
    “Hell no. She’s an actress. Everyone on this show is an actor or actress. Even the band. We’re basically the friggin’ Monkees, just scarier.”
    “Oh my God. Wow.”
    “Nothing you see is real.”
    “Is everyone a —” I couldn’t bring myself to say the word.
    “Vampire? Some of us are, some of us aren’t.”
    “How did this happen to you?” My heart broke with every detail. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
    “It’s the high price to pay for having a good time.” He smirked, but it wasn’t happy. He stared out the window and didn’t say any more.
    “What about the ballerina?” If he didn’t want to talk about himself, maybe he’d give me some general information. The image of her