I knew what I was getting into when I got in my truck and drove to Tulsa to see you. It doesn't have to be easy between us, but it does have to be honest. Okay. I want to be honest, too. So I'm telling you the truth when I tell you that I can't let myself drink from you. I can't deal with what will happen between us because of it. I'm not ready to have sex, even if the whole world wasn't going to hell in a handbasket all around us. Hell in a handbasket--you sound like your grandma when you say that. Heath, changing the subject won't change my mind. I'm not having sex, so I'm not drinking from you. Jeesh, Zo, I'm not a moron; I get that, he said. So we don't have sex. We've spent a whole lot of years not having sex. We're experienced at it. There's more to it than just wanting each other. You know what the Imprint does to both of us. It was intense enough before when I was hurt so bad I was almost dead.

It would be that times ten if I drank from you now. Heath swallowed hard and ran his hand through his hair. Yeah, okay, I know that. But here's what I'm saying about it--the Imprint goes both ways, right? While you're drinking my blood you feel stuff I feel, and I feel stuff you feel. Yeah, and the stuff' is all about pleasure and sex, I said. Okay, so, instead of us focusing on the sex part, we'll focus on the pleasure part. I raised my brows at him. You're a guy, Heath. Since when do you not focus on the sex part? Instead of the kidding response I expected, his expression was absolutely serious. When have I ever pressured you about sex? There was that time in the tree house. You were in fourth grade. That doesn't count. Plus you knocked the crap out of me. He didn't exactly smile, but his brown eyes twinkled. How about the back of your truck last summer at the lake? You really can't count that, either. You had that new bikini on. And I didn't actually pressure you. You had your hands all over me. Well, there was a lot of you showing! He paused, lowering his voice to a normal level again. My point is, we've been together for a long time. We can definitely be together without having sex. Do I want to have sex with you? Hell, yes. Do I want to have sex with you when your head is all messed up from that Blake guy and you're worried as hell about everything that's going on, and you don't actually want to have sex with me? Hell, no! Hell, hell, no.

He put his finger under my chin and made me meet his gaze. I promise that this won't be about sex because you and me, what we have, means more than sex. Let me do this for you, Zoey. My mouth opened and before I could stop it I heard myself whisper, Okay. His smile was like he'd just won the Super Bowl. Excellent! But no sex, I said. Absolutely none at all. Just call me Heath No Sex. Hell, my middle name is No Sex. Heath. I put a finger on his lips to shut him up. You're dorking this up. Oh, yeah. Okay, he mumbled around my finger. Then he let loose my hand and reached into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out a small pocketknife.

He slid off his coat and opened the knife. The blade looked weirdly like a kid's toy in the dark cafeteria. Hang on! I kinda shrieked when he started to lift the knife to the side of his neck. What? Um. Right here? We're doing this right here? He raised his brows at me. Why not? We're not having sex, remember? Of course I remember, I said. It's just, well, someone might come in. Stark's guarding the door. No one will get past him. That shocked me into silence. I mean, obviously this had been Stark's idea, but guarding the door to make sure Heath and I had private time? That was just-- The scent of Heath's blood hit me and all thoughts of Stark flew from my mind. My eyes found the small ribbon of red that lay along the soft spot where his neck met his shoulder. He shifted, putting the knife on the table and holding his arms open to me.

Come here, Zo. It's just you and me right now. No one else for you to think about. No one else for you to worry about. Come here, he repeated. I went into his arms inhaling his scent: Heath, blood, desire, home, and my past all wrapped up together in a strong, familiar embrace. When my tongue touched the line of scarlet I felt him shiver and knew he was suppressing a moan of pure desire. I hesitated, but it was too late. His blood exploded in my mouth. Unable to stop myself, I pressed my lips against his skin and drank. At that moment I didn't care that I wasn't ready for sex, or that the world around me was one big ball of chaos, or even that we were in the middle of the cafeteria while Stark guarded the door (and probably was experiencing everything I was feeling). At that moment all I cared about was Heath and his blood and his body and his touch.

Sssh. Heath's voice had gone all deep and kinda raspy, but it was weirdly soothing. It's okay, Zo. It can just feel good and that's it. Think about how strong it makes you. You need to be strong, remember? You have, like, a zillion people counting on you. I'm counting on you; Stevie Rae is counting on you; Aphrodite is counting on you, even though I kinda think she's a bitch. Erik's even counting on you--not that anyone cares about him . . . Heath's words went on and on. And as he spoke a weird thing happened. His voice stopped being all deep and raspy. He started sounding just like Heath--like he and I were sitting here talking about normal stuff and I wasn't sucking blood from his neck. Then, without me hardly knowing it, the surge of feeling that filled me as I drank from him changed from raw sex to something else. Something I could think through.