“Hm. That’s a shame,” he said with a raised eyebrow. “I like a gal who takes risks.” The vampire leaned back and swigged his beer. His Adam’s Apple bobbed up and down as the bitter liquid washed down his throat. Once it was empty, Daniel set it on the felt cover of the table with a thump. “I was a comm major,” he said. “Eighty percent of communication is nonverbal, orange makes you hungry, and if a woman touches her neck when we’re talking, I should stop what I’m doing and give her my number immediately. I quit paying attention after the neck part.”

He sifted through his small pillar of chips, plunking each one onto the next. “You’re not a comm professor, are you?”