I could get a yummy cappuccino, one of their mega-big blueberry muffins, a copy of the Tulsa World, and sit outside and pretend like I was a college kid. It seemed like a seriously good plan. I was totally right--there was no one sitting in the outside tables, and I snagged the one closest to the big magnolia tree and set about putting the proper amount of raw sugar in my cappuccino as I nibbled at my mountain-sized muffin. I don't remember when I first felt his presence. It started subtly, like a weird itch under my skin. I moved restlessly in my chair, trying to concentrate on the movie page and thinking that maybe I could talk Erik into checking out the latest chick flick next weekend ... But I couldn't pay attention to the movie reviews. The annoying, under-my-skin feeling wouldn't go away. Com pletely irritated I glanced up and froze. Heath was standing under a streetlight not fifteen feet away from me.

Chapter Twelve

Heath was taping some kind of flyer to the light post. I could see his face clearly and it surprised me how handsome he looked. Okay, sure, I'd known him since third grade and watched him go from cute to gawky to cute to hot, but I'd never seen this look on him. His face was set in grim, nonsmiling lines that made him appear much older than eighteen. It was like I was catching a glimpse of the man he would turn into--and it was a nice glimpse. He was tall and blond, with high cheekbones and a really strong chin. Even from that distance I could see the thick eyelashes that were surpris ingly dark, and knew the gentle brown eyes they framed. And then, as if he could feel my gaze, his eyes slid from the light post and locked on me. I watched his body go completely still, and then a shudder ran through it, as if someone had blown freezing air across his skin.

I should have gotten up and retreated into Starbucks, where it was busy with clusters of people talking and laughing, and where it would be impossible for Heath and me to really be alone. But I didn't. I just sat there as he dropped the flyers. They fluttered around the sidewalk like dying birds as he walked quickly over to me. He stood across the little table without saying anything for what seemed like forever. I didn't know what to do, especially because I was unexpectedly nervous. Finally I couldn't stand the intense silence any longer. "Hi, Heath." His body jerked like someone had just jumped out from be hind a door and scared the crap right outta him. "Shit!" The word left his mouth in a rush of air. "You're really here!" I frowned at him. He'd never been exactly brilliant, but even for him this sounded pretty dumb. "Of course I'm here. What did you think I was, a ghost?" He dropped into the chair across from me as if his legs wouldn't hold him anymore. "Yes. No. I dunno. It's just that I see you a lot and you're never really there. I thought this was just an other one of those times."

"Heath, what are you talking about?" I narrowed my eyes and sniffed in his direction. "Are you drunk?" He shook his head. "High?"

"No. I haven't had a drink in a month. I quit smoking then, too." The words sounded simple, but I blinked and felt like I was trying to reason through mind mud. "You quit drinking?"

"And smoking. I quit it all. That's one of the reasons I've been calling you so much. I wanted you to know that I've changed." I really didn't know what to say. "Oh, well. I'm, uh, glad." I know I sounded like a moron, but the way Heath's eyes were fo cused on me was almost a physical thing. And there was some thing else. I could smell him. It wasn't a cologne smell, or a sweaty guy smell. It was a deep, seductive scent that reminded me of heat and moonlight and sexy dreams. It was coming from his pores and it made me want to scoot my chair around the table so that I could be closer to him. "Why didn't you return any of my calls? You didn't even text me back." I blinked, trying to block the attraction I was feeling for him and think clearly. "Heath, there's no point. There can't be any thing between you and me," I said reasonably. "You know there's already something between us." I shook my head and opened my mouth to explain to him how wrong he was, but he interrupted me. "Your Mark! It's gone." I hated his excited tone, and automatically snapped back, "You're wrong again. My Mark's not gone. It's just covered so the stupid humans around here won't freak out." I ignored the hurt look that seemed to take all the adultness out of his face and turn him back into that cute boy I used to be so crazy about. "Heath," I softened my voice. "My Mark will never go away. I'm either go ing to Change into a vampyre, or I'm going to die in the next three years. Those are my only two choices. I'll never be like I was. It can never be like it used to be between us." I paused, and then added gently, "I'm sorry."