For a time this was my favorite chapter BUT I actually think chapter eight is better now. For very different reasons though. Don't get your hopes up; in many ways, this is as good as it gets.

I shouldn't have sent Eloise away. That was my first mistake—well, actually, I didn't really want to follow that train of thought. Sending Eloise away was one of my many mistakes, because it forced me to prepare for my "date" (this was not a date. This was something much more scandalous than a date) on my own. I couldn't do this myself! I needed my maid to be the voice of reason, tell me my hair looked nice and Kile would be drooling at the sight of me.

Since when had I needed (or even wanted) to work so hard to impress a man? It was ridiculous. I looked fine; I didn't need Eloise or anyone else to tell me that. The wine-colored dress I'd chosen for dinner was simple yet flattering. I'd redone my hair, equally simple with just a couple pins holding it up.

(When I changed after swimming, I had applied "the best concealer money could buy" so I could wear something low-cut and put my hair up without anyone asking if I'd fallen down the stairs recently.)

This was a big step. After the incident, I'd sworn to never put myself out there again, but my excuses for seeing Kile had just grown weaker and weaker since this whole (still undefined) arrangement began. Maybe it was better like this, to just say I want you than to invite him to see the view from my balcony or whatever stretch of the imagination I might come up with next. I was just being honest.

About some things.

Definitely not everything.

There were some truths I couldn't even think about yet. The end of the week, what I wanted to happen and what was actually going to happen, why it was so easy to fall back in with Kile, and what I was trying to prove. That stuff, I wanted crammed into the darkest, most private corner of my mind and left there.

There were more pleasant things to concentrate on. Like the knock on the door that could only be one person. My heart couldn't decide whether to sink or skip; instead, it seemed to spin within my chest. I was more excited than nervous, but the feelings blurred together so I couldn't be entirely sure.

I opened the door halfway and pulled Kile inside with one smooth motion. At this hour, everyone else should have been asleep, but I wasn't going to take any chances. The last thing I wanted was to explain this (whatever it might be or turn into) to any of the other people residing on this floor, all of whom were directly related to one of us. This wasn't a secret, exactly—technically we weren't doing anything wrong—but it was most definitely private.

While I was tightly wound, Kile seemed perfectly comfortable with this and every other new development between us. Hands in his pockets, his eyes casually flicked around my room, presumably taking note of the architecture. I'd never understood the appeal, but Kile had lots of opinions on pillars, archways, and trusses.

He'd probably explain it all to me if I asked, but that wasn't why I'd invited him up here.

I felt a little crazy for it now, like I was taking this thing we had way too far, but I had to be realistic. Kile would be gone again in what felt like the blink of an eye. I had extremely limited opportunity to take things too far, and since I'd regret it either way, it made sense to push in this direction.

Besides, we fit together so naturally, fell into each other without really meaning to. Kile's arms encircled my waist; I reveled in the closeness, breathing in the scent of him. In another world, this would have been enough.

But I wanted more.

A lot more.

I looked up, tilting my head at him and hoping I looked enticing. Hoping he'd make the first move, really. Technically, I'd already made the first move by inviting him to my room with obvious sexual intent, but I needed Kile to make the second move, prove this wasn't all in my head. No matter how many times we kissed, I couldn't quite believe it; he was consistently too good to be true. There was a catch—there was always a catch, and Kile's was that I couldn't keep him past the end of the week, no matter how much I might want to.

I blinked; that thought startled me. How much, exactly, did I want to keep him? Temporary. The whole point of this was that it was temporary. I couldn't get the wrong idea and set myself up for a broken heart on New Year's Day.

I pushed that aside, attributed the spike in my pulse to Kile's proximity. The soft smile on his lips promised to be sufficient distraction, if he would just kiss me already. My eyes met his, then back to his mouth. Seriously, what was he waiting for?

Kile's smile widened, like he knew something I didn't. "What?" I demanded, threatening to pull away but not actually doing it. I couldn't. "What are you staring at?"

"Nothing, Eady," he insisted, sounding incredibly patronizing. "I'm just…"

"Annoying? Impolite? Wasting the queen's time?" I finished for him.

"Yes. All those things."

Then he kissed me, like I had to be a certain level of irritated before he wanted anything to do with me. Unfortunately, it was very difficult to stay irritated with the person kissing me so slow and sweet, easy as breathing but much more enticing. I'd imagined this messy and needy, the skin-to-skin in the pool enhanced by the cover of darkness, but this spoke to me in a different way. Gentle but building, the clearest thought I'd had in a long time.

I want him so bad.

When Kile pulled back, my first instinct was to drag him right back in. I ignored it, if only because I needed to breathe, and he'd previously taken up all my air. Panting, he pressed his forehead to mine. This was more intimate, somehow, than actually making out with him, and I wasn't sure if I should run from it or lean into it.

Obviously, I stayed, almost mesmerized and trembling with…anticipation? Attraction?

Something else?

I pushed the thought—the ridiculous notion—away. Here and now. When his lips were this close to mine, I really shouldn't have been able to think of anything else. His hands settled on my waist. Even through the sleek fabric of my dress, his touch seemed to burn. I wanted more, to kiss him again, but I couldn't move, transfixed by the way he was looking me up and down. That burned too, but, really, I didn't mind.

I liked it.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked. My voice was soft, but I felt bold nonetheless. There was some level of risk interrupting a moment like this. I didn't want to break the spell, or change anything that was currently crackling between us.

Kile shrugged, his fingers shifting on the seam of my dress. "You."

His voice gave me chills. I played along. "What about me?"

"You, at the pool today."

That explained why he was looking at me like Mom looked at strawberry tarts. I knew I looked good in that bikini. Kile was so good at acting casual, but it wasn't just me that was driven mad. I wasn't entirely crazy for calling him up here, kissing him like he was all I ever wanted. In that moment, he was all I ever wanted.

Chemistry. We had fantastic chemistry. And why were we wasting it just staring into each other's eyes?

I pulled him back to me, earning this little hmm of surprise that turned into a pleasant groan. Kissing him wasn't enough; fumbling with the buttons on his shirt wasn't enough. I wanted to lose myself entirely, every point of contact. I tugged him towards the bed, hoping he'd get the idea, and he came through. He lifted me without breaking the kiss and set me down on the bed—freshly made, in hopes we'd get this far.

He switched so quickly, from holding me so delicately you'd think I was made of glass, to kissing me so hard the springs of my mattress creaked. I found I didn't really mind being pinned down. In fact, I might even admit that this was exactly what I'd hoped for, aside from the fact that we were both still fully clothed.

But that could change. I unknotted Kile's tie by feel and tossed it over my shoulder, not caring where it ended up. The thing was patterned with little cartoon elephants; if there had been an open flame nearby, I would have aimed for that. Then, buttons. This shirt (a normal shirt that had nothing wrong with it—impressive, considering Kile's track record with clothing choices) seemed to have twice the usual amount. He found my frustration amusing; I felt him smirk as he finally shrugged the unbuttoned shirt off his shoulders.

Then I had to pause, to look. I'd seen him without a shirt just a few hours ago, when we were all playing in the pool, but it was different now. We were alone, for one, and the lights were out. Instead of tan and golden, he almost shone blue in the moonlight. Equally attractive, but entirely mine.

I shut my eyes, not just because he was kissing me again, pleasantly fixated on the crook of my neck. It was one thing to stare—all things considered, I couldn't really help myself. But to let myself get the wrong idea…that was dangerous. He wasn't mine, or anything close to it. I couldn't claim him past Friday. I couldn't even claim him once he left this room. There was no mine.

It wasn't like I loved him or he loved me. It was physical; it was touch. We had the chance to choose each other before, and instead, we'd gone our separate ways. This was a reflex, the things we hadn't dared to do the first time around, a spark that would always exist between us.

He would leave at the end of the week; I would go on without him. Maybe he'd still be single next Christmas and we'd end up here again. Or maybe he'd patch things up with Alice, and he'd bring her here to meet his family, and…

The thought incensed me so much I couldn't finish it, but obviously I was being unreasonable. I had no reason to hate this girl I'd never met. Even Kile, who had labeled their relationship doomed from the start, hadn't actually said a word against her. The only thing I could possibly hold against Kile's ex-girlfriend was that she wasn't me, and that wasn't at all reasonable either.

In the interest of preserving my sanity, I decided that Kile was probably just being nice, and Alice actually was a huge bitch, so I could justify hating her.

In the middle of this kiss, I didn't really want to think about Alice at all. I pushed her (and a few other things) to that now-familiar dark corner of my mind. Right here, right now. Nothing else mattered.

The present was a delightful place to be. Kile was…everything. As good as if he could read my mind, careful but not too careful, like I was an altar he'd come to worship at. We hadn't taken it past here before, tangled up with a couple buttons undone, but tonight was different; I'd known that from the beginning. I was done worrying about taking it too far. Tonight, there was no too far, just like there was no mine.

I dug my nails into his shoulders, wanting him closer than physically possible. The heat building, burning me up from the inside out. I shifted, sitting up and pulling Kile with me.

In the twilight, his eyes shone bluer than blue. "Eady."

I never liked my name more than when he said it. Or maybe it was something else I liked, his breathless voice, or the hand on the back of my neck. The right amount of gentle, the right amount of heat.

"What do you want, Eady?"

A loaded question. I wanted a lot of things, but in this moment, only one thing really came to mind.

"This," I whispered, guiding his hands to the zipper at the back of my dress. "I want this."