All the while, my mind reeled with what had happened.
I have a hickey. I let Adrian Ivashkov give me a hickey.

I’m not dangerous,” I breathed.

He brought his face toward mine. “You are to me.”

And somehow, against all reason, we were kissing.

Adrian Ivashkov wasn’t easy to surprise, but I surprised him then when I brought his mouth toward mine. I kissed him, and for a moment, he was too stunned to respond. That lasted for, oh, about a second. Then the intensity I’d come to know so well in him returned. He pushed me backward, lifting me so that I sat at the table. The tablecloth bunched up, knocking over some of the glasses. I heard what sounded like a china plate crash against the floor.

Whatever logic and reason I normally possessed had melted away. There was nothing but flesh and fire left, and I wasn’t going to lie to myself—at least not tonight.

I wanted someone a little more approachable," I explained.
"What, like Captain McTropicalShorts back there? Where on earth did you find him anyway?"
"Just did an Internet search." Feeling a need to defend my research, I added, "He comes highly recommended."
"By who? Long John Silver?

Why not see which is brighter: your aura or the sun?

You look confused," said Adrian.
I shook my head and sighed. "I think I'm just overthinking things."
He nodded solemnly. "That's why I try to never do it.