Page 54 of The Vampire's Mate

“I’m regretting a lot of things,” they muttered, bypassing the bar and heading to the back to put their coat away.

I glared after them. I wasn’t going to tolerate tension between us over a drunken almost-kiss. I followed, blocking the doorway when they came out of the office. “Move, Ryder,” they commanded. I had to admit, it almost worked. The fire in their eyes had me squirming on the spot.

“Not this time. I’m not going to have things between us get weird when nothing even happened.”

They let out an exasperated sigh and collapsed against the wall. “This wasn’t me getting drunk and belting out ‘Islands in the Stream’ at the top of my lungs, only for a video to end up on YouTube.”

“Wait, does that exist?”

“Ryder!”

“Okay!” I held my hands up in surrender. “Sorry, not the time.”

“I tried to kiss you,” Shi said. “We work together. Your boyfriend is my boss—ourboss. That shouldn’t have happened.”

I shrugged. “That’s what alcohol does to people, Shi. I’m not offended. I’m not uncomfortable. You were hurt and you latched onto someone who gave you what you needed. Frankly, I’m flattered.”

They rolled their eyes. “Of course you are.”

When our gazes met, I made a show of looking them up and down. “I mean, can you blame me? Look at you.” I grunted when they shoved me back with a hand on my chest.

“You’re ridiculous.” But they were laughing now, and that was a complete one-eighty from the scowl they’d given me. My job was done.

“Are we good?” I asked.

Shi sighed, rubbing that ice pack over the back of their neck. “As long as you don’t get mad at me if I have to run off to throw up again, we’re good.”

I followed them closely into the front of house, leaning down to talk louder than necessary in their ear. “I promise not to get mad if you puke your guts out the whole shift!”

They wiggled away, muttering, “You’re such an asshole,” as the ice pack found their forehead.

By the time we closed the doors, both Shiloh and I were on the verge of collapsing. We made it through the shift—barely. I was in better shape than they were, but not by much. James insisted on driving them home while I did the cleaning, and they gratefully accepted. I wasn’t nearly as sick as they were, butdamnI was exhausted. The combination of the hangover, the restless sleep, and the stress of the last few months weighed on my shoulders.

I managedallof the cleaning in the time James was gone, and while I waited for him to return—because he also refused to let me drive despite my objections—I found myself sitting at the counter, eyeing the bottles of top-shelf scotch. My eyes found the same bottle he poured for me when he confessed to being a vampire. God, that conversation was so long ago. It felt as if he’d been a part of my life forever. Like there hadn’t been a time where he wasn’t there.

“Don’t even think about touching any of those bottles, Ryder Clark.”

I spun, not expecting James to come through the main entrance instead of the back. “I wasn’t! I was just thinking?—”

“Exactly. That’s never good.” He grinned, and I couldn’t fight the smile that crept onto my face. He stepped up to where I sat on the barstool, situating himself between my legs and snaking his arms around my waist. “Can I take you home now?” he asked, his lips brushing mine with the tease of a kiss that was infuriatingly out of reach.

“Damn, at least buy a man dinner first.”

“Oh, I’ll feed you all right.” My laugh was swallowed by his mouth capturing mine, his tongue sweeping along my bottom lip. Iopened happily, letting our tongues tangle briefly before James pulled back. “What are the chances of me getting you in a hot bath tonight?”

“Slim to ha-ha,” I responded. “You’ll be lucky if I don’t fall asleep on the drive home.”

James snickered. “Then I guess I’ll have to figure out some other way for you to unwind.”

I cocked a brow but was met with silence. James tugged me off the barstool and led me out of the building.

Once we got to the house and Carlos was freed, James led me to the bedroom. There, he leisurely undressed me, one article of clothing at a time. Every inch of exposed skin was accompanied by a kiss that sent shivers up my spine. He stripped me down to my boxer briefs, then stepped away to put my clothes in the basket. I hooked my thumbs behind my waistband to discard the final piece of clothing, but he closed in behind me and halted my hands. “Not yet, love.”

“Okay…?” Confused, I let him guide me over to the bed—where a towel was strategically laid over the sheets. When had that happened?

“On your stomach,” he instructed.

I happily obeyed. I lowered myself onto my stomach with my arms crossed under my head, the towel under my hips. I didn’t need to be instructed to close my eyes—they did that on their own. Though when something wet drizzled over my back, I gasped. “What the hell?”

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