He took a cautious step toward me, and I remained in my spot, arms crossed. “I’ve been lying to you, Chloe.”
“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know,” I said, failing to keep the sarcasm from my voice.
Was he finally going to tell me the truth about how we knew each other? Or why I couldn’t seem to remember him? But why now, and why here, at Simon’s party?
“I’m not who you think I am,” he said.
He took another step forward, and I was too confused—and curious—to move away from him. Truth be told, I didn’t want to. He’d intrigued me since the moment I’d met him. I was drawn to him in a way I couldn’t begin to comprehend, let alone explain. And if he was about to tell me the truth… no way was I leaving this room.
“You’re not?” I asked.
I mean, I’d guessed he wasn’t completely honest about who he was, but something in his tone made it sound like maybe he’d been lying about this version of him, too.
“No.” He closed the distance between us. “And I’m out of time, so please forgive me for what I’m about to do.”
He took my face into his hands, and I uncrossed my arms, letting them fall to my sides. His crystal blue eyes darkened a shade, making his intentions clear. My heart was in my throat as he lowered his head.
“Please let this work,” he muttered a second before his lips landed on mine.
He parted my lips, his tongue gliding expertly over mine. Without hesitation, I wrapped my arms around his neck, holding him to me, a sudden, paralyzing fear taking root in my chest—the fear he’d pull away and disappear, the fear I’d lose him again.
I arched into him, and he slid his hands from my face, down my arms and around to settle on my lower back. And then he yanked me closer, our bodies pressed together in a way that was oddly familiar and wholly comforting. It was like we both knew exactly what the other wanted and expected, like we’d kissed a million times before.
Pulling back just long enough to nip at my bottom lip, he groaned, the sound reverberating through my body, branding my soul. Kissing Trent was nothing like anything I’d ever experienced before—it was passionate, desperate almost, and so incredibly hot I worried I’d burst into flames at any moment.
His tongue swirled around mine, twisting and teasing, and it felt like he was trying to coax something out of me. I wasn’t sure what else he wanted from me, but I knew, instinctively, that I’d give it to him, whatever he wanted. I pressed even closer, moaning softly.
And then it happened.
An onslaught of emotion flooded my mind, overloading my senses. Love. Lust. Fear. Grief. Loneliness. Desire. Jealousy. I whimpered, but Trent didn’t release me. He deepened the kiss, pouring even more emotion into me, quickly followed by flashes of memories. Memories of me. Of him. Of us.
Me at my locker in Keene Valley. Punching Trent’s face. First shock, then amusement as he looked at me. Attraction. Curiosity. He wanted to get to know me.
Me on the side of the road, looking at the waterfall. Nervous energy and relief. More attraction. Pure joy. Desperation to spend more time with me, so he offered to show me the waterfall.
Me cowering in the hallway, scared and shaking. Trent’s immediate concern for my well-being. His awe at my offer to take detention so he wouldn’t have to. Him showing up and sitting beside me. He spent the entire time wondering why I was so kind to him, a stranger.
Trent flattened his hands on my back, holding me still as he continued to kiss me. The memories played out in my mind like a movie. I had no idea what I was seeing, if these were truly my memories or if they were nothing more than a twisted trick of the mind.
But as overwhelming as it was, I couldn’t stop. I needed to know how we ended up here, how I could have possibly forgotten so much of my life in Keene Valley, how I could have forgotten him. I was finally getting the answers I needed, and I couldn’t stop now. I threaded my fingers through his hair and kissed him deeper.
Skipping school and going to the falls. Eating lunch at his house. We sat on the couch, both of us pretending to be interested in research for a school project, but all he wanted to do was kiss me. I wanted to kiss him, too. We took a picture together—a picture he later stuck in my locker. Cute notes written on Post-its, and his concern for me thinking he was silly.
Rachel Wellington’s funeral. Trent’s face twisted into something nightmarish. Fangs. Him biting into Abby’s neck and drinking her blood. His confession: “I’m a vampire.”
Gasping, I jerked away from him, eyes wide. My mouth, numb from his kiss, tingled, and I absently ran my tongue over my bottom lip.
“What was that?” My heart was out of control, its thunderous beat drowning out the loud music and the sounds of the party. My chest heaved with hard, heavy breaths.
“Chloe?”
The sound of him saying my name like that, smooth as silk and self-assured, was like a switch in my brain. The rest of my forgotten memories flooded over me like a tidal wave—Trent’s deepest secret, the curse, getting kidnapped by Isach, being tortured by Hannah, Trent rescuing me, him telling me I was his soulmate and that he wanted to claim me…
I remembered everything. I knew Trent; he wasn’t just some sexy, mysterious stranger I’d encountered. He came here for me because he loved me. Because I loved him.
And I knew Jaxon, too.
All the weird instances of déjà vu, Jaxon admitting I knew him and Trent… some part of me had believed it was all just
