Shadows by Jennifer L. Armentrout

like a train station in here.”
    His brows shot up. He couldn’t tell if she was joking or not.
    Seeing his expression, she laughed again. He loved that sound—loved that she laughed so much. “I’m joking,” she said, sitting down on the bed. She patted the spot next to her. “Actually, you’re the first boy to be in my bedroom.”
    A rush of possessiveness hit him hard. Ignoring it, he sat beside her and leaned back, watching her from behind hooded eyes. “Well, you are new still. Unless you work fast, I’d hope I’m the first guy.”
    She twisted around, sitting cross-legged. “I bet you’ve been in many , many girls’ bedrooms.”
    He shrugged one shoulder.
    Her eyes narrowed. “Come on, with someone who looks like you, there’s probably a line of girls hoping to take you home.”
    “So?” He reached out, tugging on the hem of her jeans. “I’m here with you, aren’t I?”
    “Yeah, you are.” She frowned. “Sometimes I wonder why.”
    Dawson stared at her a moment, then laughed. She couldn’t be serious. There was no way she didn’t know how pretty she was or how her laugh drew people to her.
    Her frown deepened. “Are you laughing at me?”
    “Yes,” he replied. He shot forward, moving faster than he should have, and caught her hand. “You can’t tell me you’re surprised that I’m here. I’ve been your shadow since the first day you arrived.”
    Beth’s eyes dropped to where his hand wrapped around hers. After a moment, she settled down. “I know I’m not ugly, but you’re…you’re…”
    A grin pulled at his lips. “I’m what?”
    Crimson stained her cheeks, and his grin spread into a smile. She pulled her hand free, but he didn’t think she was mad. “You know what you are,” she said, reaching over and picking up a large album. “Anyway, I found this old photo album. You want to look at it?”
    He leaned back on his elbows. “We can do whatever you want.”
    Her lashes lifted, and he felt as if he’d been punched in the stomach when their eyes met. No. Not that. Like when he shed his human skin and took his real form. That rush of pure electricity and power when his being became light.
    That is what he felt when Bethany looked at him.
    More than anything, he wanted to know what was going on in that head of hers, what was making her eyes so dark that it was almost difficult to tell the difference between her pupils and irises. Did she feel it? God, he hoped he wasn’t reading her wrong, because if so, this was all about to get really awkward.
    But it wasn’t like humans were all that different from Luxen, once you got past the whole alien thing.
    She showed him pictures of her family from Nevada, flipping through the album with a soft smile on her face as she made a comment about this relative and that one. But man, did he ever have a hard time paying attention to them.
    All he wanted to see was sitting right next to him—on a bed, no less.
    He couldn’t stop staring at her—at the finely arched eyebrows, her cheekbones, the way her lips curved, how she tilted her head—
    Bethany laughed, lifting her chin. “You’re not even looking at the pictures, Dawson.”
    He thought about lying but grinned instead. “Sorry. You’re distracting.”
    “Whatever.”
    She had no idea that he could literally stare at her all day. It was like he was obsessed. Whipped is what Daemon would say, but his brother didn’t understand. Hell, Dawson wasn’t even sure he understood what he was doing here, with this girl—this beautiful human girl.
    This was trouble.
    And he really didn’t care.
    Over the low hum of music, he could hear her parents talking with the doctor. His eyes flicked to the bedroom door. Willing it closed the rest of the way with a soft click , he turned his attention back to Bethany, but she didn’t appear to notice.
    “I’m glad you invited me over,” he said.
    She turned slightly and surprise flickered across her face.
    His gaze dropped to her parted