Page 33 of Perfectly Perfect Pixie

“Weres like to drink, but no one can hope to keep up with dwarves.”

“And no one recovers like them either,” Phil said. “Sedrick told me Ollie and Burt were right as rain and back to work the day after your orchard festival. I saw how much they drank that night, and they’re a third my size. How is it that they can process all that, and I just have a couple of glasses, and I’m like . . . this?” Phil’s hands drifted down his body before lifting back up to cradle his head.

I didn’t have it in me to tell Phil he’d had more than acoupleof glasses. Still, he had a point. “I’ve no idea,” I honestly answered, latching on to Phil’s arm and pulling him toward the cottage. The sprites were still over on the west side of the orchard. They hadn’t realized yet that there was a second pixie they could feed from.

“Come on, let’s go inside for a bit.” I didn’t think Phil would mind the sprites on a good day, but he wasn’t feeling his best, and I didn’t want to push him.

Phil followed obediently, and I got him settled in one of my backless chairs and grabbed him a glass of water and an apple.

“Thanks, Peaches.” Phil drained half the glass. “I should have called before I came over. I could have just done that. I told Sedrick I wanted to check and make sure you were okay. Just hearing your voice didn’t sound good enough, I guess.”

My heart warmed. Phil was one of the good ones. One of the very best ones. “I’m fine. Well, I mean, when I woke up, my head felt like it might explode, and my wing muscles were sore, but—”

“Ugh, that sounds like me. I fly all the time, but my back is killing me this morning. That’s why I drove the truck. Normally, I would have flown, but I just couldn’t muster up the energy.” Phil ran his fingers through his hair. No matter the hell we put it through, pixie hair didn’t tangle. “It was fun, though.” A sheepish grin wiggled its way onto Phil’s face. “I’m kind of embarrassed this morning, but last night was good.”

“Yeah,” I thickly swallowed. Embarrassed was an understated version of how I felt today.

“Sedrick had to carry me into the house.” Head down, Phil studiously stared at his almost empty glass of water. “I, uh . . . kind of passed out, so I think I had a little more fun last night than Sedrick.”

I snickered, my momentary shame forgotten. “Not much lovin’ going on?”

“No.” Phil’s face flushed bright red. “I wanted last night to be fun for Sedrick too, but—”

“And you don’t think he had fun watching you dance? Pfft. Nonsense. I remember last night,” privately I wished I didn’t, “and I remember the look on Sedrick’s face, the adoration in his eyes. Trust me, Sedrick had a great time.”

Phil wasn’t wholly convinced, but he didn’t look like a kicked puppy either. “I’m sorry, we kind of bailed on you. We should have driven you back home.”

In retrospect, that might have been better, but I didn’t want Phil to feel guilty. My actions—mead or no mead—were my own. “It’s fine.” I waved Phil off. “Um . . . Lucroy drove me home.”

“Oh?” Phil’s head snapped up, the fatigue of moments ago temporarily forgotten. “And . . .” Phil waggled his eyebrows.

“And nothing.” I crossed my arms, chest puffed out and chin held high. I tried acting haughty, but the fact I couldn’t meet Phil’s eyes kind of ruined my false bravado.

“Peaches.” Phil poked my leg with his finger. “Come on. It’s me. Spill.”

Despite the ache in my back, my wings fluttered, scattering pixie dust. Unable to sit, I stood and paced the small length of my living space. Throwing my hands up, I said, “Fine. I was an idiot. I basically threw myself at Lucroy.” Threw myself on top of him might have been more accurate.

“Really?” Phil’s voice went up an octave, sounding like he was taking a second turn through puberty. “What happened?”

“Nothing.” I still wasn’t sure if I was relieved or upset about that. “Lucroy turned me down.”

“What?” Phil stood too, wings furiously twittering. “I can’t believe that. I saw the way Mr. Moony looked at you.”

“Yeah, well . . .” I dug my toes into the floor. “I might have exaggerated a little. I don’t think it was because he wasn’t interested.” I remembered the press of Lucroy’s thickened cock against my leg and flushed. “I think he was worried that I was drunk and didn’t want to take advantage.”

Phil nodded. “That makes sense and sounds more like Mr. Moony. I know vampires have a certain . . . reputation, but Mr. Moony’s never struck me as less than gentlemanly.”

“I . . . That’s actually a pretty good description of Lucroy.” I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to work out some of the kinks. Flushing deeper, I said, “I didn’t offer in so many words, but I’m pretty sure I would have let him drink from me. If he’d wanted.” My head pounded with a forgotten memory.

“Really?” Phil’s wings briefly fluttered faster. “You wouldn’t mind?”

I shrugged. “I’m not sure. I’ve never offered up a vein before.” Nose scrunching, Lucroy’s words came back to me. “You know, Lucroy said something. I was kind of distracted at the time.” My rock-hard cock and raging lust had made it a little difficult to pay attention to anything that wasn’t Lucroy’s body or skin.

“What did he say?”

I tried to remember the exact words but came up short. “Something about the fact I smelled good but . . .” I snapped my fingers as the words came back. “Lucroy said he didn’t understand how something that smelled that good could be toxic.”

“Huh?” Phil looked and sounded as confused as me. “What does that mean?”

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