As always, everything House of Night belongs to the Casts - I'm just playing in their playground!

Erik actually smiled, though, and rubbed my cheek in a way that was almost…reassuring. I met his eyes again and squeezed his legs in what I hoped was a reassuring gesture of my own. "I promise." I told him. "You didn't hurt me and you didn't force me. You were actually really…nice." My voice faltered a little, though, and it was hard to keep looking at him. He'd been wonderful, actually, then…

"Until I said…" Erik finished for me, and this time I felt the stab of the words he didn't repeat.

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"Yeah," I answered. The full weight of last night settled on my shoulders again, obliterating everything but the echo of his words in my head. You don't have to blow me again, you already got me off. My throat closed up. My chest felt like someone kicked me. He hated me. I deserved it. He didn't want me anymore.

I forced myself to stay sitting up straight, instead of doubling over and curling up in a little ball on the bed like I wanted to. I stared into his gorgeous blue eyes and tried to make my breathing seem normal. His hand still cupped my cheek, and the warmth and…tenderness…of his touch was both comforting and confusing. I closed my eyes, still leaving my hands resting just above his knees. I breathed deep and tried to stop being such a baby about this.

Feeling the warmth of his body under my hands helped me remember that he wasn't saying it again. I was able to relax a little more when I remembered that he was even trying to apologize. This wasn't last night. Things were a lot better now. He wasn't been mean, he was actually apologizing. He was even being worried and kind of sweet to me. We were practically talking.

Ah, hell. He'd started this whole conversation asking if we could talk, but the thing is, we just weren't very good at talking. We did a lot better when we had someone else's story to hide behind. Let's see, we did really great expressing our feelings when he'd made me do the Othello Shakespearian improv (and yay for that in-front-of-the-whole-class humiliation…). Getting our feelings out that way, as mortifying as it was, actually did help. Then, after we escaped Kalona and hid in the tunnels, we'd connected in a really sweet way talking about Dracula. We were able to tiptoe around each other and feel our way to see if we could really forgive each other. We even got to talk a little about our hopes for the future. So that was good, too.

But just straight out talking? When it was about tough, emotional stuff we had to process between us? Without a book or movie or play or TV show to help us pretend that we weren't really talking about us? Well, we did do a fair amount of snapping at each other, and occasionally screaming at each other… But yeah, when you took away the snapping and yelling, too, there just wasn't much talking going on. And right now I really couldn't think of any story in any format that we could use to help us deal with our issues right now.

My brain kept going as I just sat there, eyes closed, my hands just above Erik's knees, his hand still warming my cheek. He probably thought I was being really weird, just sitting there, not moving and not talking. I just had to take the time to think, and leaving or hiding in the bathroom would probably be rude. So I was just going to have to be a dork and look like I was having a brain hemorrhage or something in the middle of our conversation.

But as long as I was being a dork… Me and Erik. Talking. Crap.

I knew I wasn't being fair. Not only in this entire situation but specifically right now. I was still hurt by the singe sentence he said last night, but here I was thinking about talking, and the last thing I wanted to do was talk to Erik about what he'd said to me. I felt even worse when I realized that he was trying to talk about last night, and I was basically still being a sissy about it.

He'd even apologized – twice - once last night and once just now. So why was I still hung up on what he'd said? Oh yeah, because my sweet, kind, gentle, worried Erik regularly turned into a cruel, hateful, mean, jerk.

I let my mind wander a bit more (yes, still just sitting there…) and wondered if this one sentence by itself wasn't so bad. Yes, if it was a one-time thing it would still be mean and hateful, but maybe I was so hung up on it because it was pretty much just one more time that he'd been mean to me. Maybe I wouldn't be quite this hung up on it if it wasn't part of a pattern.

Then again, maybe if his nastiness last night had been a one-time thing, maybe I'd have been smart enough to just walk away. If anyone else had said the kinds of things he'd said to me I definitely would have walked away a long time ago... But I wasn't walking away, and Nyx didn't want me to walk away. So - if I didn't like what he said to me, I was going to have to talk to him about it.

My mind took another path, because, of course, us fighting and hurting each other had been going on so long now that there was a history to consider. And as long as I was having (what probably looked like) a mini-seizure and not talking to him, I should consider all the angles. And this one was important.

Until last night, he only said mean and hateful things when it involved me and another guy. And yes, it was all kinds of wrong that "me and another guy" issues came up often enough that there was an actual pattern to Erik's reactions. But at least that was a reason I understood, and even accepted a little responsibility for (but I promise I've seen enough Oprah to know that no matter what one person does, it doesn't make it okay for the other person to be mean and cruel – I just mean that Erik's reactions at least made sense).

But last night was different. Last night he'd been hateful because I was crying. That wasn't normal, right? Guys don't usually get mad when a girl cries. I had no idea what that was all about and it freaked me out more than a little that I couldn't figure him out.

But that only brought me back to talking. Again. If I wanted to end it I should end it. If I wanted to know why he was so awful I had to ask him. Ah, hell. Taking him…in my mouth…was easier than this.

Okay, one last thing to consider. Erik was trying, and by more than just apologizing. He'd actually been brave enough to ask if he'd hurt me or forced me. And he really hadn't been sure. I can't imagine any guy – anyone who wasn't a psychopath anyway, and Erik might have a temper but he definitely wasn't evil – but any guy would hate to think that he'd actually forced himself on a girl. So for Erik to ask, thinking that that really could have been why I was crying, was really pretty courageous. All I needed to know was what he was thinking that made him act so mean and nasty to me. That shouldn't be anywhere near as hard to ask about.

And… okay, that wasn't the only last thing… Realistically, we had to figure out how to talk to each other, eventually at least, and it might as well start now. If I wanted to get past this one incident (our others would probably come back to haunt us, but I could barely handle this one right now, so just one thing at a time…) we needed to talk. In fact, if I – we – were going to try to make something work for longer than just this morning, we were going to have to talk on a regular basis.

Considering the fairly revolting foursome that was brewing with me and my (current...yes, I'm a ho…) three guys, our talking wasn't likely to regularly involve fluffy bunnies and rainbows, either. No matter how long this lasted, we were probably going to have lots of hard stuff to talk about. We might as well start practicing. We might as well figure out how to talk about the painful crap from the beginning.

So…I guess it was time to get out of my head and start talking to him.

I pulled my hands back to my own lap and took a deep breath. He dropped his hand from my cheek, but my skin still tingled as the ghost of his touch still lingered. I forced myself to look back in his eyes. He still didn't look mad. Even after all that silence from me, he'd waited patiently. If I could really believe what was in his eyes I'd say he looked…ashamed.

I got practically a whole paragraph ready to go in my head, ready to talk. (Um, Erik, why were you so mean? I don't understand why me crying made you so mad. You keep saying you were thinking something before you said...what you did to hurt my feelings. What were you thinking before you got so angry?) But the only thing I managed to say out loud was, "Why?" I tried to make my voice strong, but it only came out in a whisper.

He paused, his eyes hardened for a second, and his jaw clenched. I flinched, and he blew out a breath and grabbed my hand. His long fingers curled around my palm and wrist. "I'm sorry," he said again. His eyes were still partially shadowed and angry, but he was actually pleading, too. It was like he was angry but begging me to understand why. "I'm still…mad," he said quietly. "I can't help it. But I promise I'm not going to go off on you again. I'm just still…having troubling dealing."

"Dealing with what?" The words left my mouth before I could take them back. His hand, wrapped around mine, was gentle and warm but almost too tight. I tried to feel comforted by his touch instead of conflicted that it almost seemed like he was grabbing me. I was also chickening out a little and kind of didn't want to know what he was "dealing with" if he was still angry. It was taking a lot of effort on my part to not yank my hand free.

He was apologizing, though, and it had to be a good thing that he was admitting he was angry, right? Doesn't Oprah say it's not good to hide your feelings? Erik seemed to get mean when he got angry, though, and I just still didn't quite trust him not to rip me apart again, no matter what he said. But I'd just been convincing myself that us talking was a good, necessary thing, so I should probably suck it up and at least listen to his answer.

He grimaced, and his voice was tight as he snapped, "Dealing with you regretting going down on me last night."

What??? My confusion must have shown pretty plainly on my face, because confusion mixed in with the anger and frustration on his face almost immediately. His voice was still sharp and angry but had just a hint of uncertainty as he added, "That was why you were crying, right?"

My head was all jumbled up with thoughts and feelings and memories of last night. Okay, yeah, maybe I was regretting it a little now since it didn't seem to help and the aftermath last night and this morning was an emotional minefield. But well, during, and right after… Maybe I should have been, considering the circumstances… But regretting…the act…was not even in the top ten things of what was going through my head.

I twisted my wrist a little so I could grasp his hand instead of him grasping mine. I pressed my fingers into his palm. I forgot to be nervous, despite the obvious anger in his voice. Maybe if he understood what I really was thinking and feeling he wouldn't be mad any more. I tried to figure out where to even start…

But okay, I might be getting ahead of myself. If he thought that I regretted…taking him in my mouth…that still didn't quite fit with his hateful reaction. I know guys' brains work differently, so maybe that made sense to him to be angry about? I really thought there had to be more, though…

Maybe I was just doing more avoiding, not wanting to admit everything that was going through my head. Heck, my thoughts and feelings were all over the map and I wasn't even sure what to tell him that would make sense. But…if I knew for sure why he was angry, maybe I could explain it right.

I pulled his hand into my lap and covered it with my other hand, so in an odd way I was kind of cradling part of him in my lap. Okay, yeah, really odd, yes, I'm a dork, but I was going for a comforting gesture and I hoped it felt that way to him.

"Could you…" I started hesitantly; looking carefully into his conflicted blue eyes, "tell me exactly what you were thinking? Why you're still mad now?" I took a deep breath, hoping this was the right thing to say, "Maybe you're wrong."

He blinked, and carefully pulled his hand out of my grasp. So much for being comforting. He clenched his hands and rested them on his lap. His whole body was tense and he looked really uncomfortable. He sat there for a while, very tense, very still, and I wondered if he'd even answer me. I waited as patiently as I could. I'd taken a long time to think things through, he deserved some time to think, too. He finally unclenched his hands and stretched them flat on his legs and looked up into my eyes.

"You were…amazing…" he whispered, looking stressed but not mad any more. I tried to feel good about what was kind of a compliment, but it just seemed wrong to be proud of that... I half-smiled at him anyway, because he was still looking at me and I couldn't figure out what other expression should be on my face. He actually smiled back then, and for a second he looked almost relaxed and hopeful and happy. "I was ready to forgive you anything."

But then his jaw clenched and the anger crept back into his face. His voice got hard. "Then I kissed you and you were crying."

I felt a little uneasy and pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around my legs for a little – comfort? protection? - but I kept looking in his eyes. Even though I was a little nervous, he wasn't being mean – not yet anyway. And I could feel the gentle support of my Goddess.

I should have been paying attention for her help this whole time, but with all the emotional whiplash I kind of forgot. But with her encouragement boosting my confidence, I was getting calmer now and feeling more and more certain that if Erik would just tell me what was wrong I could fix it.

Erik continued, and his face was still twisted with anger. His voice was bitter and his blue eyes were as hard as ice as he looked into mine. "You went down on me then you started to cry. Not exactly an ego boost."

He shook his head once, sharply. "Please, tell me I'm wrong," he practically spat at me then, suddenly flat out furious. "Tell me you didn't regret it. Tell me you weren't thinking about Stark the whole time. Tell me you weren't imagining blowing Heath and not me. Tell me it turned you the hell on until you finished and realized you didn't want me after all. Tell me you want me. Tell me you care."

He got angrier and louder, leaning forward and practically shouting in my face. I got calmer and more certain and not at all afraid.

Even after I took him in my mouth, he still thought I didn't want him.

My mind was suddenly as clear as glass, and everything totally made sense. This was why he'd been so hateful. This was why he ripped me open. He was angry because he'd thought that I didn't really want him, that I didn't really care. That I wanted to be with Stark or Heath and not him.

Dangit, if Erik had just asked last night we could have avoided all this pain and drama! Geez, something simple like 'hey, why are you crying' -- would that have been so hard? But… okay, considering that I couldn't keep myself from getting involved with three other guys while I was dating him… Considering that he had a quick temper anyway (and whoa boy were we going to have to have talk about that, but now was definitely not the time…)… Considering that it had just taken me a nearly out-of-body experience to follow my mind through my wandering maze of concerns to finally decide yes-you-really-should-talk-to-him… Yeah, unfortunately, I could see how he didn't bother to ask and just assumed the worst.

But…if this was why he was angry…could it mean that he still wanted me? Despite everything?

Did I want him? Despite everything?

Crap. Despite everything on my end, including the disturbing fact that I was actually starting to feel less like a ho for wanting to be with Erik as well as Stark (and very possibly Heath, too… and yeah, I really was going to have to start thinking of Heath in all of this pretty soon)… Despite his temper and jumping to the worst conclusions, despite his uber-jealousy, despite how he'd been too pushy about sex (until recently anyway), despite how we just kept hurting each other, and despite the fact that I loved Stark and I still couldn't name the feelings I had for Erik… Despite everything, I still wanted him…

His face was close enough that it was easy to kiss him. So in a semi-complicated, but surprising smooth sequence of movements, that's what I did. I unwrapped my arms from my legs and grabbed Erik's face between my hands. I rearranged my legs and kind of rolled forward onto my knees, and let the momentum practically throw me into him as I pressed my lips against his. I ran my fingers through his hair and wrapped my mouth around his soft, warm lips. Slowly, he started to kiss me back.

Whew! Almost there! Zoey and (oh please!) some kind of lemon up next.

Thank you everyone for adding me to your story alerts and favorite stories, and especially for the reviews!!! Every time I get a notice in my email I squeal just like Damian's boyfriend Jack ;-D.