“The side effects—” Jay begins.

“Drinking blood, photosensitivity. I still say yes.”

I squeeze her hand. “You’re literally the coolest mom. And Jay can turn you guys too, if you want… Maybe?” I glance uncertainly at Jay.

“If we decide we want that,” my dad interjects. “I’m not sure we do. It’s something we’ll have to discuss.”

“I’m not sure why anyone wouldn’t want to stay young and disease-free forever,” I say. “But okay.”

“What if your voice ability doesn’t work after you turn?” Dad asks.

Shit. I hadn’t thought of that.

“Even if I lose my ability, I want this,” I say slowly. “I was thinking we could take a beach vacation first, as a family—maybe save the transition for the end of summer. But I’d like to do it soon, before any other weird crap comes our way. I want Jay. Forever.” I dig my nails into my palms to fend off more tears. God, what is wrong with me tonight?

“Forever?” Jay’s voice is threaded with hope. I risk a glance at him; his brown eyes glow into mine, brimming with a passion that heats my very skin.

My parents exchange delighted glances, and Mom seizes my dad’s hand, tugging him toward the hall. “Why don’t we let you and Jay talk it over?” she says. “Whatever you decide, you have our support. Right, Liam?” Dad hesitates, and she elbows him, still smiling broadly at Jay and me.

“Absolutely.” Dad gives us a wry smile. “Whatever your mother says. Talk among yourselves…”

Mom drags him away, and a few seconds later I hear the distant thump of their bedroom door closing.

Jay circles the kitchen island, trailing his fingertips along its smooth surface. The blood bracelet on his wrist catches the light, turning to silver flame. His eyes are hooded now, dark and intense. Hungry. He has never looked more like a beautiful predator.

“Are you cool with this?” I ask, sidestepping to keep the island between us. “Turning me, I mean?”

“It’s your choice.”

“Good answer, but I actually want your advice.”

“Part of me wants to keep drinking your human blood and no one else’s, because you’re delicious.” His slow, sharp-toothed grin sends a tingling thrill between my legs. “But a bigger part of me wants you protected. You’re so vulnerable as a human, Daisy. So easily broken, so slow to heal. I want you to have strength and speed and regenerative powers. I want this for you, as long you’re okay with being supernatural.”

“If we’re being technical, I was supernatural first. I just didn’t realize it.”

“True. Once you’re a vampire, we can still exchange blood occasionally, for fun. If you want to. We’ll do anything you like, whenever you want.” His gaze softens with longing. “And if, in a few years, you’d like an enormous diamond ring, I’m down for that, too.”

My pulse kicks up, and he tilts his head as if he can hear its new rhythm. He’s coming closer, and my insides are hollow with craving, desperate and vulnerable and his.

“You said you want me forever,” he whispers.

“I know, and I’m sorry—that’s ridiculous and overreaching—I assumed too much, and honestly who says that when they’re twenty-two? We’re too young—”

“Didn’t your parents marry right out of college?”

“Yes, but—hang on.” I’m breathless, dizzy. “Nobody said anything about marriage.”

“Calm down, klipspringer. I’m not proposing to you yet.”

“Good, because I don’t want you to think I’m jumping into this because of the money. It’s not that. I mean I want to travel and party and research with you, but I didn’t say forever because I want all those things. I don’t plan to mooch off you for the rest of my existence—”

“Daisy.” He’s right in front of me now, and his tone stops my nervous chatter. “Daisy, I thought you understood. Everything I have is already yours. I accumulated this for you. There’s no mooching.” He laughs, sounding a little breathless himself, and the realization slows my heart rate to a bearable speed. “It’s yours, sweetheart. All of it. All of me. And the sooner you move into your house, the happier I’ll be.”

“Oh my god, Jay,” I whisper tearfully.

“Hey.” He sweeps his thumb along my cheekbone. “I know this is big, for both of us. But right now, all we’re talking about is timing. When you want to turn.”

“Sometime in August.” I sniff a little.

“You’re sure?”

“I am.”

“Sounds perfect. When the time comes, I’ll email your mom a list of the supplies she’ll need to help you transition. You’ll be sick for about a week while the new organs and fangs are developing. There will be nausea, headaches, body aches, fever. I wish I could make it more pleasant, but trust me, with my special cocktail, it will be a lot more comfortable than the old way, and less risky, too.”

“I trust you.”

He hesitates, meeting my eyes. We both know what those three words mean. For me, they’re more powerful than the other words couples usually say to each other.

That’s why I say them again. “I trust you, Jay Gatsby.”

His lashes lower, and his jaw works briefly.

“And I’m not going anywhere this time,” I add.

“I know.” He looks up at me, joy shining in his brown eyes. “I trust you, too.”

We collide then, his mouth slamming into mine, and I’m devouring him, drinking him whole. Impossible to know how we find our way to my room without ever removing our hands or lips from each other. But somehow we do.

As I sink onto the bed with Jay, lost in the sweet fire of his mouth, I remember what my mother said.

That in her happiest moments, we are all together. All under one roof. Safe and healthy, even if it’s just for one night.

And then I almost forget my mother exists, because Jay is shucking off his shirt, and I’m admiring the expanse of perfectly carved abs that now belong to me. I discard my own clothes in trembling haste, eager to be pressed right up against his warm skin, thrilling because we did it, we leaped the hurdle that was my family. I would have forged ahead anyway, but it’s so much more satisfying to have their support.

Jay hesitates a few steps away from me, devouring me with his gaze. White stars swirl in his eyes, a galaxy of thirst, of craving. With clawed fingers he undoes the button of his pants and draws down the zipper, easing them off his hips.

“We’ll have to be quiet.” His voice slides through the fangs, slightly distorted.

I nod, breathless. “I can be quiet. I think.” I climb on my bed and scoot backward, until my spine is pressed to the padded headboard. Then I move my thighs apart, letting my legs fall open, baring my pussy to Jay. I waxed thoroughly because there’s something I want to try. Something daring and dangerous. Something I wouldn’t trust anyone else to do, but with him—god, the risk is exhilarating.

Jay stares. Swallows. I can tell he’s trying not to drool, and it makes me laugh.

“I want you to bite me,” I say softly. “Right here.” I tap my pussy invitingly.

“Shit, Daisy,” he breathes. “Are you sure?”

“Please.”