Page 37 of Blood Bonds

“Victor, oh hey,” I said in one of those super lame ways.

His eyes widened in surprise before narrowing into a questioning frown.

“Is your memory that bad that you forgot about our date?”

I looked away from him, only because the guilt at seeing the hurt on his face was clawing at me. And in doing so, I could now see the car that was parked outside the restaurant I wasn’t that far away from.

“Oh, was it tonight? I thought we said tomorrow?” I asked, lying and trying to save us both the shame. Needless to say, it didn’t work. Something I knew when I saw a single dark brow raise in an expression that screamed bullshit.

“No, it was tonight, just like you knew it was,” he stated, folding his arms across his chest and making me want to gulp comically.

“That’s a shame because I had plans for tonight,” I told him, and he scanned down to my hand to see inside the plastic bag.

“With a bucket of ice cream?” he asked, making me wince.

“It’s not a bucket, more like a medium tub.”

“Medium?” he said in another ‘I’m calling bullshit’ tone.

I looked down at it myself and then said, “Okay, sort of large-ish.”

His lips twitched like he was trying not to smile as he suddenly grabbed the bag off me and took my wrist in a gentle hold with his free hand. Then he started to walk us both toward his car, or should I say, ‘march’ because this was a better word to describe it. Much to my horror, he tossed the ice cream in the trash as he passed. I made a distressed, oh my god sound, trying to pull myself free, telling him,

“How could you do that!? That was The Original Chinatown Ice Cream Factory ice cream!”

At this he allowed himself to smirk and muttered wryly, “Catchy name, however did they come up with that one?”

“Er, I will have you know it’s some of the best ice cream in New York and anyway, that’s not the point,” I argued, for little good it did me.

“No, the point is you were about to replace me with a dairy product,” he said getting in there first, and I refrained from telling him that I would have given up chocolate if it meant I would get a one-night stand with him.

“The best dairy product and jeez, it wasn’t like I was planning on sleeping with it,” I said before I could filter that part out. But I was too late because he suddenly stopped, making me bounce into him a little as he had been practically dragging me alone the street.

“Umph.” I made the unladylike sound, something he ignored in favor of what his brain was now hyper-focused on.

“And you were planning on sleeping with me?” he asked, making my cheeks practically melt from the bone.

“That’s not what I was supposed to say,” I said, shutting up before I told him,only in my dreams or with BOB in my hands.

“But you still thought about it?” he assumed, making me open my mouth and close it again when my brain came up with nothing. This unfortunately happened twice more, making me look like a fish out of water. Although the death that would have followed would have been easier to deal with right about now. Because the guy wouldn’t let it go. He simply folded his arms once more and raised a sexy brow like this was enough to get me to spill all my fantasies.

In the end, I had nothing, so I turned on my heel and started walking the other way, telling him, “I have to get home.”

Of course, the problem with this plan was one he was quick to remind me of.

“Then you are forgetful indeed if you have also forgotten where that home is.” I stopped dead and turned to find him now looking smug.

“Er, yes… I mean, I need more ice cream, before I go home,” I said, thinking my work-around was good… that was until he jerked a thumb over his shoulder and told me,

“China Town is that way, Sweetheart.”

I swear I felt like growling at him, but the guy intimidated me too much to believe I could get away with it. In the end, I was forced to endure the humility and turn around to start walking the way I had come. Once more, I didn’t get far because he snatched my hand in his and started to pull me toward his car, telling me,

“Here, let me drive you.”

“Wait, it’s okay, I can walk, and I really want some ice cream, it’s… erm… very important to me,” I argued pointlessly as his driver opened the back door and looked completely unphased by the fact his employer was trying to manhandle a woman into the vehicle he drove.

“Honestly, I really shouldn’t…”

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