Chapter two

Elena tried to stay calm, but the closer she got to the Mystic Grill, the louder her heart thumbed in her chest. She'd never heard her friend so upset, so scared. Caroline was always composed, always in control, even when she was throwing a hissy fit. Something was seriously wrong.

With trembling fingers, Elena replayed the message again, hoping that, by some miracle, it had changed.

Elena, it's me. Please, please, pick up your phone! Please! There was a long pause that broke Elena's heart. Her friend was waiting for her to answer, but she hadn't been there for her. OK, if you get this, I'm begging you, get to the Grill! I need your help! Hurry!

Caroline's sobs vanished just as the lit up bar doomed up in front of her. With shrieking tires, she parked her car somewhere she was sure she wasn't allowed to, and ran inside.

"Caroline?"

Elena's scream was drowned out by the wave of loud music that hit her when she entered.

Half of the Grill was turned into a dance floor crowded with people. How was she supposed to find one girl in the midst of all that? Her panic growing, she stalked over to the bar and was greeted by a grinning Matt Donovan.

"Hey, El!" he sang, pulling her in.

Elena let him hug her, but not for long. She had other things to do.

"Matt, have you seen Caroline?"

The brown haired boy nodded, pointing at the booth in the furthest corner of the Grill.

The make out booth, Elena thought, a chill running up her spine.

The fact that Caroline, the ever attention seeking drama queen, was hiding from everyone's eyes, meant this was even more serious than she'd thought.

As Elena made her way to the shadowy booth, every single possible scenario of what could have happened to her friend crossed her mind. By the time she reached her destination, Elena was sure there was nothing the blond could throw at her that she wasn't prepared for. She was wrong.

What the hell?

There she was. Caroline. Smiling and looking absolutely stunning. Her blond hair was pinned up in a rummaged and yet perfect way, her lips were colored in a subtle pinkish shade and the deep blue dress with a low cut and high split fit her body perfectly.

Elena knew her mouth hung open in a very ungraceful way, but she couldn't help it. Where were the tears? The panic?

Caroline looked up at her now, her eyes sparkling. "Oh, hi Elena!"

"Hi?" she hissed. "Hi? Are you kidding me?"

"No, why−"

"I thought you were in trouble, Caroline!" she screamed, throwing her hands up in the air. "You scared the crap out of me!"

"Why would you think I was in trouble?"

"You didn't exactly sound chipper on the phone!"

Caroline's blue eyes narrowed confused. "Phone?"

"Yeah, phone! You know, the little thing that goes ring! You left me a voicemail when I was in the shower! You told me to get here!"

"I did?"

"Oh, come on, don't play dumb! You−" but when she saw Caroline's puzzled look, she trailed off, realizing the blond wasn't that good of an actress. "You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?"

When she shook her head, Elena felt her stomach turning. She'd been right from the start. Her friend was in trouble…and something told her she wasn't the only one.

"Caroline," she said, her voice soothing now. "Why are you sitting here? Alone?"

Her decorated lips parted to answer, but for some reason she ended up just opening and closing her mouth like a fish on dry land.

OK, time to get out of here, Gilbert!

"Let's go."

Elena tried to grab her arm, but Caroline shrugged away from her touch. "I can't. I have to stay here."

"Why?"

"Because I told her to."

Elena didn't need to turn around to know who was standing behind her. The goose bumps on her arms told her everything she needed to know. How could she not have seen this coming. This had Damon written all over it.

He moved from behind her to Caroline, bending down to look her friend in the eyes and once again, Elena couldn't resist giving him a quick look over. Jeans and a black shirt. Nothing more. On a human man, those clothes might have looked simple, like he wasn't even trying, but on Damon it was a whole different story. A simple black shirt and the man was irresistible. Then again, he would probably look just as irresistible with anything else on.

Or without anything on.

Stop it!

Come on, just look at him!

No, I won't look at…Oh, great, now I'm having mental conversations with myself. The man is literally driving me crazy!

"Thank you, Caroline," he said, his deep voice snapping Elena out of her thoughts. "You can go back to your party now and remember, you never saw me here, you never saw Elena. You just came to have a nice time."

Gently, he took Caroline's hand in his and pulled her on her stiletto covered feet.

"Bye now, sweetheart," he whispered, pressing a kiss on her hand.

Elena tried to ignore the feeling that little action stirred up inside of her. Why was she suddenly angry at the girl that was walking away from them?

Luckily, there was no time to think about that, because the second his blue eyes focused on her, her ability to form a single coherent thought somehow vanished into thin air.

"Miss Gilbert."

Gracefully, he bend his head down like a real southern gentleman and reached for her hand.

No!

Inhaling sharply, she took a step back. She wouldn't let him touch her. Not again. His touch did something to her. Somehow, it made her forget. Forget who he was. Forget who she was. She wouldn't allow it. Especially not after what she'd just witnessed.

"You really are a bastard, Salvatore!" she snarled, glaring at him.

The corners of his lips twitched and, even though she tried to fight it with everything she had, her eyes found those lips and rested on them way too long.

"I guess it's a step up from monster."

Elena shook her head, appalled by his complete and utter lack of regret. This was exactly the part of him she should never forget. The part that was without remorse, without compassion. "Goodbye, Damon."

She turned on her heels, fuming, ready to storm out and make her final point when he said something that stopped her in her tracks.

"Have a drink with me."

"What?"

"Have a drink with me."

Slowly, Elena turned, her eyes filled with a thousand questions. The only one to actually make it past her lips was, "You're joking, right?"

Damon was sitting now, leaning back, watching her closely. "I never joke."

"You compelled my friend into getting me here! You messed with her memory right in front of me! Like she's a puppet for you to use whenever you need her and then throw her away!"

"Your point being?"

"My point being, why the hell would I have a drink with you after that?"

He tipped his head to the side in a way only Damon Salvatore could and rumbled, "You mean, besides the fact that you want to stay here with me?"

Elena laughed hysterically. How dare he assume that she would ever have anything to do with him!

In a flash, she saw his face again, inches from hers, a dim light dancing on his cheekbones and she, just sitting there, staring at those lips, waiting, wanting for them to claim her, to invade her.

Oh, right, she thought, swallowing hard. That's why.

She wouldn't let him get that close again. It had been one moment of weakness, that's all. She wouldn't be weak again. In an effort to make that very clear to him…and herself…she raised her chin and said in the strongest voice she could master,

"Again, goodbye, Damon."

"Not good enough of a reason?" he said, keeping his eyes glued to hers. "How about this one: You have a lot more friends and they're all very accessible."

Her mouth dropped. "What?"

"Come on, Elena," he said, leaning over the table like a predator that was moving in on his prey. "You and I both know I'm not going to give up so easily. I'll just keep compelling everyone you love until I get you exactly where I want you."

His eyes left hers and raked down, over every single part of her. Right there and then, Elena realized Damon didn't need to touch her to make her feel those delectable, forbidden things. All he had to do, was look at her.

She looked even better than he remembered. Then again, maybe he hadn't wanted to remember those slim hips that swayed in the most exquisite way whenever she crossed a room or those plumb breast that made his groin ache whenever he thought about them. Not when she'd been avoiding him, a little too successful. It had been two weeks since he'd last drowned in her hazel eyes. She'd kept clear of the Boarding House. She hadn't shown up at any of the places a compelled Bonnie had told him about. And the thing that had pissed him off the most is that she'd never left his brother's side, not until she was safe and sound inside her house. A house he wasn't invited in to. A house where the drapes of her bedroom were always securely closed. He'd checked. Every night.

"Do you really think that, now I know what you're up to, I would fall for any of your tricks again?" she snapped, bringing him back to reality. "How dumb do you think I am?"

Was it his imagination or did he hear a little tremor in her voice?

"You're not dumb," he said matter-of-factly. "You're human."

"How do you make being human sound worse than being dumb?"

"Think about it," Damon said like a teacher trying to make his student understand the most basic thing. "When you're dumb, you're dumb. You were probably born that way. It's not your fault. But when you're a normally functioning human, you grow up in a world where you see, almost from the get go, that personal relationships can destroy people. You see it in parents getting divorced, in lovers breaking up, in people dying and leaving others behind to mourn them and yet, you all willingly fall into the same trap. You all fall in love. You all form bonds. Even you. Do you really believe, Elena, that when you get another one of these calls like tonight, you won't respond? That you won't come running to me again? Of course you will. Because there's no way you could ever ignore a cry for help from your friends. Not to mention from your brother. What if it was real? What if I wasn't behind it? You wouldn't take the risk. You love them and they would be your downfall."

Stubbornly, he watched her cross her arms over her chest.

God, that chest.

Frustrated, he dug his nails into the soft material underneath him, doing his very best to keep himself from grabbing the girl, pushing her down on the table and having his wicked way with her right there, showing everyone she was his. Only his.

I can't, he thought, fighting his nature. She's not ready. She'll run.

Since when do you care about that? the beast inside him snarled. Just grab her! You know you want to! Pin her down on the floor and bury yourself inside of her!

No! I want her to want me as desperately as I want her! She's not there yet!

Imagine it: her smooth legs wrapped around your waist, clasping you to her! Your hips meeting, fighting, dominating! Her hot breath panting in your ear as you make her come over and over again−

Damon's nails ripped through the seat as he shut out those thoughts, repositioning himself, hiding his hunger from her eyes.

"Come on, Elena," he said, his voice hoarse. "Just one drink."

"One drink?" she asked, her resistance crumbling in front of him. "One drink and you'll leave my friends and family alone?"

He nodded slowly, watching her make a decision.

"Fine," she said, sliding down on the seat opposite to him. "But let's make one thing clear: you forced me into this. I don't want to be here. This is not , in any way, shape or form, a date."

"Noted," he rasped, shooting her a cocky smile. "I don't date anyway."

Off course not, Elena thought, watching Damon. A man like him doesn't need to date. All he needs to do, is walk in a room and simply wait for women to come to him. No wonder he's an arrogant ass.

"Scotch and a white wine spritzer."

Elena hadn't even noticed Matt standing next to Damon with a tray in his hands.

"You already ordered?" Elena barked as Matt put the wineglass in front of her.

"I had a sneaking suspicion you'd stay."

"Did you, now?"

"Mmmmm," he purred in a way that made her toes curl in desire. "Humans aren't as complicated as they think, Elena."

"You think you know everything about us, don't you?"

He ignored her. "Take you for example."

Rolling her eyes, Elena shook her head.

"You're the girl next door," he continued. "The girl who never strays from the path. The girl who never turns in homework too late."

"Wow," Elena mocked, widening her eyes. "Thank you for that deep, psychological analysis, doctor. Off course, every single one of my friends, or even just acquaintances, could have told you that about me."

He tipped his head with a slight smirk, watching her closely. "You hate her."

"Hate who?"

"The girl you pretend to be."

"I'm not pretending to be anyone, Damon."

"Yes you are. And deep down you know it. You're just not ready to accept that yet."

She scoffed, straightening her back defiantly. "So, you've got me all figured out, huh."

He shrugged, his smugness starting to get under her skin.

"I might surprise you."

"You won't."

"I might!"

"I doubt it."

"Well," she sang, grabbing his scotch while sliding her girly drink over to him. "We'll just see about that."