Four Of A Kind

The cafeteria was empty except for industrial freezers humming against the wall. Sabrina walked ahead, her vampire maid skirt swaying with each step.

I kept my eyes forward. Safe territory. Nothing dangerous about a back view.

Who was I kidding.

The heels clicked on linoleum. Black stockings with little bats running up the sides. Skirt shorter than anything I’d seen her wear before. The maid apron tied in a bow at the small of her back, emphasizing curves I’d been pretending not to notice for three weeks.

She opened the freezer. Cold air rushed out.

“Two bags should suffice,” she said, her tone flat.

I grabbed one. Heavy. Ice rattled inside the plastic.

She reached for the second at the same moment. Our hands met on the bag.

She didn’t move hers.

“Isaiah.”

“Sabrina.”

“You’re staring.”

“I’m looking at the ice.”

“My face is up here.”

I lifted my gaze. Purple eyes watched me with that half-lidded stare that made my brain do stupid things.

“Better,” she said.

She still hadn’t moved her hand.

“We should go back,” I said.

“Should we?”

“Harlow needs the ice.”

“Harlow can wait.” Sabrina tilted her head slightly.

“You should take your time,” Sabrina said, stepping closer. “Deciding what you want. What you’re comfortable with.”

“That’s… surprisingly reasonable.”

“I’m the most reasonable sister.”

“Debatable.”

Her lips quirked. Almost a smile. Dangerous territory.

“You don’t have to give us an answer today,” she continued. “Or tomorrow. Or even next week.”

“Really.”

“Really.”

Relief flooded through me. Finally, one of them understood the pressure I was under. One of them willing to give me space to think without constant flirting and—

Her hand settled on my chest.

I looked down. Black-painted nails against my white shirt.

“Sabrina.”

“Mm?”

“What are you doing?”

“Talking to you.”

“Your hand is on my chest.”

“Is it?” She examined her fingers with mild interest. “So it is.”

She didn’t move it.

“You just said I should take my time.”

“I did.”

“So what’s this?”

“This is me being close to you. They’re separate things.”

Her logic made absolutely no sense and perfect sense simultaneously.

I grabbed her wrist gently. “You’re contradicting yourself.”

“Am I?” Her voice stayed flat. Bored, almost. “I don’t see the contradiction.”

“You literally just said—”

She stepped closer. Her other hand found my waist.

My brain stuttered.

“I said you should take your time deciding,” Sabrina murmured. “I didn’t say I’d make it easy.”

“That’s manipulative.”

“Mm.”

“Are you even listening?”

“I’m listening.” Her thumb traced small circles through my shirt. “I hear everything you say.”

The freezer hummed. The cafeteria door was fifty feet away. Anyone could walk in.

I should step back. Establish boundaries. Be professional.

Her head tilted up. Lips parted slightly.

“What are you thinking?” she asked.

“That this is a bad idea.”

“Probably.”

“We’re in a cafeteria.”

“Excellent observation.”

“Someone could see us.”

“They could.”

“Your sisters are waiting.”

“They are.” Her hands slid up to my shoulders. “Are you going to stop me?”

“I should.”

“But will you?”

Fair question.

She rose on her toes. The heels helped. Brought her mouth level with mine.

“You’re thinking very loudly,” she whispered against my lips.

“You can’t hear thinking.”

“I can hear yours. It’s screaming run away.”

“Smart brain.”

“Cowardly brain.”

“Same thing sometimes.”

Her smile was small. Real. “Kiss me.”

“That’s the opposite of taking my time.”

“I changed my mind. I want my answer now.”

“Sabrina—”

She kissed me.

Soft at first. Testing. Her lips tasted like the strawberry chapstick she always wore.

Then she deepened it.

My hands went to her waist automatically. The maid dress fabric was thin. I could feel her skin warm underneath, the curve where her ribs met her hips.

She made a small sound. Pleased, maybe. Satisfied.

Her tongue traced my lower lip and my last functioning brain cell flatlined.

I pulled her closer. She came willingly, pressing against me until there was no space between us. Her hands tangled in my hair, ruining whatever Harlow had done earlier.

The kiss turned hungry.

She pulled back just enough to speak. “Still want to take your time?”

“You’re evil.”

“Mm.” She kissed the corner of my mouth. “Probably.”

“This doesn’t solve anything.”

“Wasn’t trying to solve anything.” Another kiss, this one on my jaw. “Just wanted to kiss you.”

“Mission accomplished.”

“Not quite.” She looked up at me through her lashes. “I want to do it again.”

“We’re in a cafeteria.”

“You mentioned that already.”

“Worth repeating.”

She kissed me again anyway.

This time I stopped pretending I didn’t want it. I kissed her back properly, the way I’d wanted to since that night in the library when she fell asleep on my shoulder. My hands slid up her back, feeling the delicate bones of her spine through the dress.

She arched into the touch. Subtle. A cat pressing into a hand.

When we finally separated, both breathing harder, she studied my face with clinical interest.

“Your pupils are dilated.”

“Whose fault is that?”

“Mine.” No shame in her voice. “Completely mine.”

“You said you’d give me space.”

“I lied.”

“Sabrina.”

“Isaiah.” She smoothed my collar. The gesture reminded me of Vivienne, but Sabrina’s touch lingered longer. “I want you to take your time deciding what you want. I meant that.”

“Then what was this?”

“Incentive. Data collection. Research.”

“Into what?”

“Into whether you kiss me differently than you kiss Vivienne.”

Her finger moved lower, finding my pulse. “Your heart is racing.”

“You just kissed me in a cafeteria.”

“True.”

“After telling me to take my time.”

“Also true.”

“Those things contradict.”

“Do they?” She pulled back slightly, her expression returning to its usual unreadable mask. “I want you to be certain. I also want you to know what you’d be certain about.”

The logic was airtight and completely insane.

“You’re going to drive me crazy.”

“Mm. That’s the plan.”

She picked up the ice bags like nothing happened. Like she hadn’t just kissed me breathless against industrial freezers.

“We should return,” she said. “Harlow will panic if we’re gone too long.”

“Right.”

“Unless you’d like to stay here longer.”

Yes. No. Maybe.

“We should go back.”

“Pity.”

She left.