The landscape blurred past me in a rush as I pondered how I ended up – against all reason –sitting in the passenger seat of the Corvette. Next to me was the infamous yet devilishly handsome Eric Northman, who had sabotaged my car battery to coerce me into this joyride.

The silence in the car was deafening, the only sound being the gentle hum of the engine as we tore down the country road en route to Bon Temps. I had anticipated a grueling interrogation, but for someone who forcibly insisted on driving me home, Eric was surprisingly quiet.

One might have thought the silence was a welcome reprieve, but in reality, the entire situation felt increasingly ominous to me. I discreetly stole glances at my companion, only to be caught every time. His ensuing smug grin, coupled with his silence, slowly drove me to madness! I couldn't read him. As someone who had bounced from foster family to foster family, I had honed the ability to quickly and efficiently assess people and situations. This skill had become my sixth sense, so sitting opposite someone as inscrutable as Eric left me feeling on edge.

I huffed and shifted restlessly in my seat as I felt Eric's gaze once again drift over me, that smug serial killer grin still plastered on his face. My hackles rose, and a heavy silence enveloped us once more, so thick that even I could hear my heart pounding too fast and too loudly.

I'd endured police interrogations with a more pleasant atmosphere, damn it. Anxiously, my fingers drummed on my crossed arms.

Another five minutes passed, during which I began nervously chewing on my lip (a nervous habit of mine that I still needed to kick). When I felt Eric sizing me up again, I finally gave in. I abruptly turned my head to face him and glared. "Ooookay, so you absolutely insisted on driving me home..." I threw my hands up in frustration, then let them fall back onto my bare thighs, exposed by my dress. "And here I am! What's with the silent treatment?"

Eric's grin widened. He seemed to possess only three facial expressions: bored, amused, and maybe hungry. Although, he looked good with all of them.

Pull yourself together.

"Twenty minutes!"

"Huh?"

"It took twenty minutes to break your silence!"

"You were timing me?"

"I wanted to know what kind of person you are, Ashley!"

"Ash!" I automatically corrected him, earning a nod before he grunted my name, sending shivers down my spine. "Ash."

The fact that he used (and knew) my first name so casually made me nervous. Restlessly, I shifted in my leather seat once again. I didn't know what to make of this whole situation. Sure, I had wanted to get closer to Eric. To kill him.

Just that?

Just that!

I shook my head. Letting him drive me home felt too much like a date or a favor. It was... confusing. Again, I bit my lip.

"Well, your heart seems to be racing again, Ash! Care to tell me what's causing this appetizing sound?"

"Hasn't anyone ever told you it's rude to comment on your companion's heartbeat?" I shot back, but still, in a fluid motion, I covered my exposed neck with my open blonde curls, not wanting to further "whet his appetite."

Eric's lips twitched downward ever so slightly. Instead, his eyes began to glare menacingly as he looked at me now. "The gesture only stirred up the air in the car and your scent further spread!"

I swallowed. He inhaled deeply with closed eyes.

"I'll keep it in mind for next time!"

As he opened his eyes again, they gleamed amusedly. "I knew I could win you over. You're already making plans for next time."

He swiftly took a sharp turn, pressing me against the outer wall of the car, ignoring my startled squeak and subsequent cursing as he continued unperturbed: "But seriously, what are you, Ms. Simmons?" His gaze, once I made the mistake of looking at him, returned to me and studied my face.

"Tired, primarily, Mr. Northman. Possibly a little annoyed by your antics. And frightened by your driving!"

Eric raised an eyebrow but turned back to the road after another thorough inspection, which made me breathe a sigh of relief. We were already passing the sign "Welcome to Bon Temps."

This must be a new record.

"You're lucky I can stand you, Ash," he continued in a conversational tone, while my heart made a traitorous leap at his concession, "I've ripped people's hearts out for less."

And just like that, my heart sank from doing cartwheels to plummeting straight into my stomach.

Well, what do you say to that?

"Thanks?"

"Don't thank me yet; the night is still young!"

Very reassuring.

"In that case, should I perhaps get down on my knees and beg?" I suggested sarcastically.

"On your knees, you could do so many more enjoyable things," he retorted, throwing me his hungry expression this time. "And now, stop trying to lead me astray constantly!"

Before I could blink, he leaned over the center console. Somehow, he had made it to my little cottage and parked the car before I could even blink. His hand rested on my restless fingers tapping on my thigh, bringing them to a halt. And almost inducing hyperventilation in me simultaneously. My breath hitched, and I widened my eyes in shock.

"Why do you avoid me wherever I encounter you?"

"I'm sitting next to you in the car! I wouldn't exactly call that avoidance!"

He growled, and for the first time in what I had to admit was way too long, I realized I wasn't just sitting next to an ordinary man. Well, ordinary was probably the wrong word. Even as a human, Eric would be anything but ordinary, tall, broad and handsome as he was. His hand on my thigh tightened its grip, and I swallowed hard.

"I didn't survive for 1000 years by letting myself be misled by little girls in short dresses!" he growled threateningly.

"Well, it's a good thing I usually wear pants and have become a woman quite some time ago!"

"Oh, I'm aware of that!"

Slowly, his fingers trailed up my thigh, along the hem of my dress.

He wanted to intimidate me!

And theoretically, I was aware that this kind of intimidation and confusion on a sexual level was a clever tactic of warfare. Heaven, I had done it myself two days ago at Merlotte's, even with him! But my stupid, instinct-driven half of my brain distracted me too much. I gasped and tried to hold his gaze.

"Do we know each other?" he asked again, while his thumb gently stroked the inside of my thigh.

"Do vampires also get Alzheimer's at a certain age?"

My voice was hoarse and husky. It was pathetic.

I should snap at him, slap his hand away, and get out. But aside from the fact that Eric would probably tear me to pieces before I could step through the door, I didn't want him to stop. I wanted him to go further. Much further. Maybe I should invite him to my place?

Have you gone crazy?

He growled. "That doesn't answer my question, Ash!"

I swallowed and bit my lip again. Eric's gaze followed my gesture, and his teeth snapped out.

Eric unexpectedly placed his hand gently on my right cheek and absentmindedly stroked his thumb over my bottom lip, causing me to loosen my teeth and look at him wide-eyed.

His gaze darkened further as he continued to gaze at my lips.

All I had to do was lean in a little, and then I could kiss him.

The car fell silent again. But there was a different kind of tension in the air. Not hostile or awkward. No, the air practically crackled. Only inches separated us. The pull to lean forward grew stronger. I glanced at Eric's full lips. He, who didn't need oxygen, was breathing heavily.

Slowly, I leaned forward...

"Yoooo, I tell you what I want, what I really really want, so tell me what you want, what you really really want."

Eric removed his hands from me and rummaged in his leather jacket for his phone. He never took his eyes off me as he spoke into the phone in a deep, gravelly voice.

"This had better be important, Pam!"

A high-pitched female voice replied.

This was followed by a curse, presumably Swedish, and our eye contact broke. What the hell was I doing here?

Quickly, I gathered my things while Eric hissed into the phone. He spoke faster than my ears could comprehend. Plus, it sounded like a foreign language. Something Germanic.

With one foot out the door and my hand still on the door frame, he stopped me once more.

"I'm not done with you yet, Ash!"

"It seems like you need to leave!"

"But you haven't seen the last of me. I still want an answer!"

I extricated myself from the comfortable leather seats of the car.

"We'll see, Eric!"

Both of us realized that I had made a mistake and had called him by his first name for the first time.

I quickly slammed the door behind me, but Eric rolled the window down once more.

"I want you to come to Fangtasia tomorrow night!"

"In that case, you can work on your nonexistent patience; that's not going to happen!"

Eric rolled his eyes. "Not for the first time, I wonder if you're even worth my time."

Ouch!

One last time, his gaze trailed over my body as I stood in front of my door in my little dress and high heels, and he grunted in satisfaction. "But the dress suits you really well!"

I shrugged, turned around, and marched to the house, hiding my burning cheeks from the compliment.

"Oh, and Ash?"

I automatically turned around, feeling caught.

At the sight of my flushed face, Mr. Narcissist became even more pleased with himself.

"I always get what I want!"